Children of the Storm
by StarofElendil
Summary: In which LOTR is put into a blender along with spices. Really, it adds up to more than its sum. Boromir lives. Eomer goes to Rivendell with Boromir and his wife. Haldir might show up just in time, too. Non-slash. Dedicated to majorbee and Easter Egg.
1. Prologue

**Children of the Storm: Prologue**

"Blast it all!" Boromir cursed over the clashing din of battle. "Where did they come from? Where are the scouts?"

The Orcs had been lying in wait for them as they crossed the river, just under cover of the forest. The Gondorians had been caught unaware, and more than one man had been killed or wounded in the fumble for weapons. The men were struggling to rally to his repeated call, but the Orcs kept up a furious onslaught.

"Gondor! Push them to the water!" Boromir shouted, finally working his way out of the Orcs that had hemmed him from all sides. Not finding any Orc to hand, Boromir was perplexed to see that there suddenly seemed many more men than the thirty he had started with.

Just then a noise from him made him jump. "Boromir you idiot, what are you doing here?" Boromir whirled around to find a grim and dirty Faramir finishing off an Orc with one hand and supporting his drooping second-in-command, best friend to both the brothers, with the other.

"Faramir? What?—They ambushed us as we were crossing."

"And we were chasing them!" Faramir groaned. "Of course we all had to meet here. What a dismal mess!"

Boromir grunted in agreement. "Aye-_Look out!_" Over Faramir's shoulder Boromir could see an immense Orc swing his scimitar, ready to cleave Faramir's head. Hampered by the unconscious man he supported, Faramir could only duck as Boromir's sword cut the air overhead. Out of reach, Boromir deflected the Orc-scimitar but rather than rip into Faramir's head it sunk into his shoulder, cutting Boromir's hand deeply in the process. Even with his sword slipping through his bloody fingers, Boromir managed to finish off the creature. As the soldiers dealt with the few remaining Orcs, Boromir dragged the two men to the sidelines. Boromir gently lay them down and, kneeling, ripped a strip of fabric from his tunic to use as a makeshift bandage for his brother.

"We've got a healer round here somewhere," Faramir said, coming to rather suddenly.

"Where?"

"Here," someone answered softly. Surprised by the light tone, Boromir jerked his head up. At first glance, the person in front of him looked like a regular Ranger, cloaked in dark breeches, boots of whisper-soft leather, and a green cloak. Only when she knelt down to Faramir and her cloak open to reveal her body did Boromir see her womanly features; the strands of hair escaping from the thick braid to wisp around her face, the gentle curves outlined by the form-fitting wear.

Digging into her pack, she pulled out some green herbs and ground them in her mortar and pestle. With Boromir's aid, she carefully slipped an arm around Faramir's shoulders. "Hold him up, please. His wound needs stitching but his shirt is in the way. I'll have to cut it." she said. When he took him from her, she reached into her pack again and took out needle and thread, taking time to cut through the sleeve of his shirt with a dagger.

Finishing her stitching job speedily, she used the tips of her fingers to scoop up the stringy paste into a ball and smooth it into the cut, apologizing as she felt him tense with her touch. Then taking the bandage she wrapped it around his neck and arm. "There. Lay him down, please." She said, accepting Boromir's hand up. Boromir stared fascinated at her dark clothes now stained a lurid black-red by Faramir's blood. Following his eyes down her front, the Woman turned a shade whiter than usual, but all she said was, "Would you get a bed for him, somewhere, or at least a pillow to raise his head?"

Boromir nodded. "Thank you," he said.

"Think nothing of it," she said, seeming suddenly uncomfortable. Abruptly, she turned around and bent down again to tend to Faramir's second-in-command, Damrod.

"You did well," Faramir said from his position on the ground. Boromir turned and found Faramir sitting up and leaning on his uninjured arm.

"Thank you," she said. "This one's just stunned. He'll sleep it off."

"It's her first time out," Faramir continued to Boromir.

Boromir raised an eyebrow. "Really? Well done. What's your name?"

"Sedryn, daughter of Norlad," The Woman answered.

"My father's treasured advisor," Boromir said.

"No," Faramir interjected, "Not since Father decided that Norlad wasn't noble enough to be an advisor." Faramir said, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

"Oh…" Boromir said, abashed. "My apologies."

She inclined her head. "Never mind. We manage. Your hand, please."

"Beg pardon?" Boromir said, having forgotten his wound in his excitement.

"You wounded your hand, didn't you?" she said, reaching towards him

"What? Oh, it's nothing," he said, wiping his hand off on his breeches. "I can take care of it myself."

"Don't do that!" she scolded. "You've got Orc blood all over your clothing; you could infect yourself that way! And, scar tissue could end up making your hand useless. So if you please, your hand!" she said pointedly, her hands up on her hips as she glared up at him.

"Better give in," Faramir interjected, "I know Ioreth's voice when I hear it."

Boromir barked a laugh and acquiesced, offering his hand palm up for Sedryn's inspection. For the first time, Boromir thought he saw a hint of a smile on her face, masked as she bent over Boromir's hand, using a dampened bandage to wipe off blood and grime.

"Yes, Ioreth did teach me," she said, looking up suddenly. "Spent rather a lot of time telling us of your wounds, both of yours.

Faramir chuckled. "Ioreth does get to be rather voluble at times, but—"

"She's a good heart," Sedryn finished, bending back down to her work. "Er, would you mind sitting down? You're too tall for me, and I think there's something, a pebble or a shard of stone, in the cut. I'll have to fish it out." She told Boromir.

"Certainly," he answered, sitting himself down on the ground, next to Faramir. Bringing his hand close to her face, she scrutinized it so closely Boromir felt embarrassed. With a new needle, she carefully scraped into the cut until the shard from the sword showed black amid the crimson blood. Digging underneath it, she pushed it up and flicked it into the ground. She retrieved a glass vial filled with a milky liquid from her pack and tipped a few drops onto his hand. With a finger, she rubbed it into the cut before taking a roll of clean bandaging and wrapping it around his hand.

"Your hands are much callused, but I believe that helped in protecting your hand; you don't need stitching." She told him, smiling.

"Good. Thank you; you have a most gentle touch."

She nodded in thanks. "I'd best get to the others," Seeming suddenly uncomfortable, she stood up and abruptly walked to the next wounded soldier, hefting her pack with her.

He didn't see her again until late that night, until the battleground had been cleared of the dead and wounded, and the Orcs dispatched with. But for the few clustered round the fires or standing guard, most of the men had already laid out their tents and bedrolls, weary from the excitement. Boromir had seen Faramir to a tent and had helped him into fresh clothes and into a bed, waiting for him to fall asleep before slipping out of the tent into the darkness in search of his own bed when he saw her staggering toward the river, a lamp in one hand and a bundle in the other. She heard him as he neared her.

"Good evening, Lord Boromir," she said, her voice heavy with weariness.

"Sedryn," he answered, concentrating at keeping his surprise at her still bloodied and grimy appearance out of his voice. The woman looked exhausted. "You're still awake."

"I just finished tending to the last wounded," she said.

Boromir's trepidation must have shown on his face, because she hastened to add, "Many are wounded, but all things considered, it went better than it might have. There are only three men I need to watch tonight." She said gently. "If you'll excuse me, I need to wash quickly and get back before they wake."

"Of course," he said courteously, but before he could turn away, she stumbled. He caught her as she fell.

"I'm sorry," she said, embarrassment seeping into her tone. "It's been a long day."

Boromir waved it away. "Never mind. It has indeed been a long day. Have you eaten anything?"

"What? Oh. No, I haven't."

"And you're the healer. Sit here—" he said, guiding her down to the ground, against a tree. "I'll be back presently with a plate."

She nodded. "Thank you."

Though he had only been away a few minutes, Sedryn was asleep when he returned, her head resting on the tree. What to do? Kneeling down, he put the plate down beside her, but his motion had woken her up. In the dim lamplight he saw her open her eyes.

"Thank you, again." She said.

"My pleasure."

The food disappeared quickly. She ate, Boromir realized with a start, like a man.

Boromir felt angry, again, at the injustice that his People lived under. Women, especially this small, dainty one, should have no need whatsoever to go into service. Why did she do it? Wasn't there some man -- her father, her brother, her husband – wanting to protect her and keep her safe?

Probably they already did all they could by fighting. Perhaps they were already dead. He knew the city was emptied of nearly all but the women and children and old men.

"What is it?" she asked.

Boromir looked up at her, questioning. "What do you mean?"

She shrugged. "You're staring off into the distance as though you are trying to pierce through stone and wood. What troubles you?"

"May I ask you a question?" he asked.

She nodded once.

"Why do you serve?"

Her eyes flashed and her body took on a rigid pose. "My father is old before his time because he loves Gondor. My mother is dead because she could not bear to see Gondor ensnared by Shadow. My brother is dead because he loved Gondor." Suddenly her body slumped, the fight in her snuffed like a candle. "I too will die because I love Gondor. I serve, my Prince, because Gondor was once great, and I would have her become great again. Though," she said sadly, "My death will not be enough to save her."

"Do you so deeply despair?" he said.

"Do I so deeply despair?" she repeated. "Does it matter? It is simply, fact."

How could she tell him? How could she tell him of the anger that threatened to send her berserk when she saw her beloved City take another hit? When the buildings sported gaping holes in their framework, like eyes ripped out from corpses by crows? How could she tell him of the despair that threatened to overcome her barriers when she saw the children, pinched and starved, sitting on steps and stones because they were too weak to run and play? When the old women no longer had that sparkle in their eyes because life was simply too much even for the staunch women of Gondor to bear. _Yes _she wanted to scream. _I do so deeply despair._ _As do you, Boromir, and your brother, though you hide it so well._

She inhaled sharply, hoping he wouldn't see the tears in her eyes. "I should go," she said. "I've spent too much time away as it is, and I haven't yet bathed."

Boromir leaped to his feet and offered her a hand. Gratefully, she accepted his help up. Seeing the bandage, she asked him, "How is your hand?"

"Very well, thanks. And, Sedryn—" he said as she turned away, his hand lingering in hers. Her eyes lifted up to meet his intent gaze. "Thank you. For answering me."

Something in the proud dip of her head reminded Boromir of long-forgotten queens.


	2. Passage of Time

My final act of freedom before school starts on Monday. Sorry I took so long to update, but things happened and then I decided to get some more written before I post so that I can be fairly consistant with my updating. I've now got thirty pages written.

Thanks Calenlass for being my new beta!!

**Chapter 1**

**One year later…**

Boromir lay dreaming in his bedroom the dawn of the day before his wedding.

The eastern sky grew dark, and a growing thunder sounded, but in the West a pale light lingered. Out of it a voice, far away yet clear, spoke, crying:

_Seek for the Sword that was broken:_

_In Imladris it dwells;_

_There shall be counsels taken_

_Stronger than Morgul-spells._

_There shall be shown a token_

_That Doom is near at hand,_

_For Isildur's Bane shall waken,_

_And the Halfling forth shall stand._

Boromir was troubled by the dream. He lay awake a long while, trying to make sense of the words indelibly etched into his mind. Faramir would, perhaps, know of some of the meanings. What troubled him most was that doom was near at hand. The doom of Gondor? The doom of what? What was Isildur's Bane? What sort of thing was a Halfling? Why did this come now, when he was to wed Sedryn today?

Frowning, Boromir pulled himself from the bed to find Faramir and tell him of his dream.

Boromir had barely managed to pull his short tunic on before someone knocked decisively on the door, three times.

"_Coming, coming." _Boromir thought at the door. Opening the door, Boromir was nearly knocked over as a young messenger boy shot into the room. "Milord! Sir!" he said, handing him the scroll.

"Easy, easy!" Boromir admonished. "What is it?"

"Scroll from Lord Denethor, sir. He sent it the moment he came back into the throne room. He wants you right away, sir, no delays!"

Troubled, Boromir took the scroll from the boy. "What did he tell you?"

"He told me to find Lord Faramir and Sedryn too, sir, and send them to him with you."

"I'll tell them, do not trouble yourself; go get something from the Kitchens for your trouble."

"Thank you, sir." the boy said, bowing and running off.

Unfurling the short scroll, Boromir read its contents:

_Boromir, Boromir, come quickly! Bring your brother and Sedryn with you. The dream, the dream! Eru, make haste! I woke up this morning from a dream, a dream that foretells what is to come. Hasten! Tell Sedryn and Faramir to cease whatever they are doing and come, before the madness takes me again!_

_Denethor_

Boromir's heart raced as he understood the implications of the note. So hastily was it written that the words lurched drunkenly about the page, and yet Boromir sensed an underlying need in his father's words.

Striding into the halls where he took his residence, Boromir bellowed for Faramir. Women and children alike scattered as he strode onward in search of his brother. Almost instantly, Faramir came running toward him.

"Eru, what are you bellowing about? Can't—"

"Read this." he said, thrusting the paper into Faramir's hands. "I'm going for Sedryn. Meet me in front of the Throne Room. Be prepared for anything" He said tersely.

Faramir, sputtering, took the scroll as Boromir sped off, almost running. Skimming through it quickly, he muttered a curse and set off for the Great Hall.

Boromir ran up and rapped sharply at Sedryn's door. "Sedryn? Sedryn, come quickly!"

Almost before he finished speaking, Sedryn opened the door, fully dressed but with a comb in her hand. "Boromir? What is it?"

"A note from my father, rambling and talking about a dream that may tell the future." Boromir shook his head. "He asked for the three of us, straight away, and mentioned madness. Will you come? Faramir waits for us with the note before the Throne Room. Be prepared for anything."

Sedryn nodded, turning back only to toss the comb onto her bed. "Let's go," she said, hitching up her skirts and running alongside him.

Minutes later, they skidded breathless into the room where Faramir waited, pacing with the note in hand. Wordlessly, he handed it to Sedryn.

She skimmed the note, careful not to show any emotion. They had learned to be wary when it came to spies—not even his children, it seemed, were above suspicion. "I see." she said.

Boromir took a deep breath. "Nothing for it then. Let's go in." he offered his arm to Sedryn. Two of the guards opened the doors for them.

Instead of his usual stooping, half-asleep position on the Steward's Chair, Denethor was pacing before the chair, ramrod straight. All the guards and servants had been sent away but for Norlad, who stood beside the Chair.

Boromir was drily amused to see that the copious layers of furs the Steward generally wore were strewn about like game on a hunting ground.

Denethor looked up. "There you are!" he said.

His eyes were wild with grief and fear, but to their utmost surprise the expression changed to love – _love! _– as he saw them, even Faramir! Yet when he came near with his arms outstretched all three instinctively backed away.

Now the expression changed to regret. Denethor lowered his hands and went back to his chair. "Forgive me." he said quietly, his eyes not quite meeting theirs. "You do right to fear me. I have not been myself for a very long time, children."

"My Lord? Father?" Boromir chanced. "You sent for us?"

"Yes. To business, that's right." The fear again flashed in Denethor's eyes.

"Children, a dream. Four Men and two Women stood alone, in different rooms. The Men bore their names stitched into a cloak that covered each from head to toe. Two there were stitched in silver on blue. The cloaks bore these names: Courage and the other, Wisdom. The other two Men had their names also on cloaks in gold upon black. I saw their names, and they were called Cunning and Strength. The two Women were held away from the Men, in isolated rooms from one another. The Women wore wide cloaks, each bearing her name. The first Woman wore a cloak with the name Healing sewn in silver upon blue. The second bore her name Honor in gold thread upon black cloth.

"Then, as I watched, Healing left her room and went into the room wherein Courage waited. After she came to the Man both removed their cloaks, and I saw that the Man was Boromir, and the Woman, Sedryn! Then darkness fell, and in the darkness I heard much weeping and clashing of swords. I waited for a time, and suddenly I saw that Honor, endued with a faintly growing light, left her room and sat with Wisdom. But only Wisdom uncloaked himself, and it was Faramir.

"Then another came, a tall Lord of Men cloaked entirely in silver. And the darkness cowered before him as he neared the rooms in which the Men and Women held together. His name was Loyalty. When he reached the first door, all of them, Courage and Healing, Wisdom and Honor, Cunning and Strength, joined hands with Loyalty, and the darkness again descended, deeper than before. I waited a time, and heard a great wrenching cry. Suddenly the darkness wavered and gave way to clean Light. When I looked, I saw that the cloaks were ragged and faded but a moment later they were replaced with cloaks more brilliant than I have ever seen, studded with all manner of gems and needlecraft. A Woman that came after, tall and glowing with a bright, moonlit light had her name shining mithril-bright, but it was a name I knew not how to read. She came and blessed them, joining with Loyalty and making him shine with greater light. In that light I saw the Crown of Elendil descend upon the Man's head. Then the dream faded and I woke."

Denethor paused to collect himself. "Sedryn, you are Healing. Boromir is Courage, and Faramir, Wisdom. It is logical to think that there are real people behind the other names, and the Last Man and the Last Woman some great people that we have yet to see. The great darkness can only mean the Last Battle, wherein there will be many tears. You will be unspeakably weary, wounded mayhap, all of you whose cloaks faded. But as they were replaced, I believe you will, in the end, succeed and be blessed. I think, children, that Gondor has poured Her remaining strength into these, in preparation for the last battle, to settle the Evil in the East once and for all."

_Only Gondor? _Boromir heard Faramir's sarcastic voice through their link. _Careful, brother. Black and gold are Rohirrim colors, not Gondorian._

_No, really? _Boromir shot back through the link.

Denethor settled back into his seat, wearied yet still excited from the telling of his dream. A fanatical gleam lit his eyes. "Do you know what this means, my dears?" Not waiting for their reply, he went on. "It means that victory for Gondor is assured! After all these years of fighting the Shadow, we shall have victory because of you three! You are the Courage, Wisdom, and Healing of Gondor! Strength and Cunning, Honor and Loyalty, are coming, and together, you sons and daughters of Gondor shall prevail!"

Boromir nodded. "This is wondrous news!" he said, hoping his disbelief wasn't too obvious. "Thank you, my Lord."

_What in Eru's name am I going to say to that? To deny that prophecies have been sent through dreams is foolishness, but…it has been long since father gave us just cause to trust him. What say you? _He asked Faramir using the link.

_Trust him now. I've had flashes of this dream, sometimes, but all I've seen are cloaks and names. Ask him about the madness he spoke of in the note. _Faramir answered.

"Father." Boromir said. "We thank you for the well-wishes. But in the paper you sent you spoke of madness. My Lord, what troubles you?"

Pure, unadulterated fear shone clearly in Denethor's eyes. "Madness? What madness? Did I speak of madness?" His voice shook. "That m-must have been a mistake – on my part. Yes, simply a mistake. I just wanted you to hurry."

Boromir held out a placating hand, worried and disturbed. The dignified Denethor was nearly reduced to gibbering. "Forgive me, milord! I did not mean to trouble you." Faramir and Sedryn stepped closer, next to Boromir.

"N-never mind! Never mind. All is well. Just—Just know that I trust your judgment, all of you, and I know th-that Gondor is in good hands." The expression in his eyes settled down to its customary steeliness. "Doubtless you have to prepare for the ceremony in the evening. That is all." Denethor said. "You may go."

* * *

The allegory/dream thing was HARD to write. What did you think of it?


	3. The Old Ways

Sorry for the delay! Thanks to Calenlass for betaing.

* * *

They stayed silent until they reached the Second Level, a bit disturbed by the queer spectacle they had just witnessed.

Boromir spoke first. "That was odd."

"That's putting it mildly." Faramir retorted.

"What do you think? Sedryn?"

Sedryn was still trying to understand Denethor's dream. Gondor's Healing? Her? The fate of Gondor – and if Gondor, of Middle-earth – would be decided in her time? She shivered.

Boromir saw her shiver. "Sedryn? Anything amiss?"

"Just a bit odd. Well, think about it! Gondor's finest – Rohan too, I think, with the gold and black. Gondor has raised its finest to fight the battle when the Nameless One is either Destroyed or Destroyer?!"

Faramir shrugged. "Interesting implications, at any rate."

"Yes." Boromir agreed. "Especially considering that we're supposed to be that finest."

"More than that. The fate of Middle-earth will be decided _in our time_." she said.

"At heavy losses, though." Faramir said. "We've already been fighting him, but if it's to be decided once for all, that means we've yet to come across his full strength."

"Yes, but Men aren't as weak as he thinks." Boromir said, seating himself on a stone bench along the road.

"I think—I think that, well, that we _could_ do it, too. Although, I'm rather untried still, in light of being Gondor's Healing." Sedryn said thoughtfully, moving to sit beside him.

"That will come with time." Faramir reassured.

"So I've been told." she answered, smiling.

They walked in silence awhile, until Faramir sent a message through their bond.

_Boromir. _Faramir said silently. _Things have changed with this dream. Shouldn't you strengthen your bond with her now?_

_Yes." _Boromir agreed. _I will._

"Sedryn?" Boromir continued. "Do you remember that time when we met, in that ambush when you were bandaging Faramir?" he asked. "When he suddenly woke and got up?"

"Yes." Sedryn answered without hesitation. "Although I'm still attempting to unravel how both of you constantly succeed in such feats. They should be impossible."

"They aren't because, thanks to…er, something Mithrandir once taught us--"

"It's not 'something,'" Faramir interjected. "It's called a mind-clasp."

"Fine, thanks to the 'mind-clasp' that Mithrandir taught us, our blood connection to one another was immeasurably strengthened, and has since grown. If he is wounded, I can give him some of my strength, and he does the same for me. If I am jubilant over something or if I am plunged into misery, he knows, and shares my victory or my grief. I do the same for him; we can talk without words. We can keep each other from _dying, _Sedryn, and have done so more than once. That's what we want to give to you – the ability to communicate that way with me, and through me, to Faramir, through the mind-clasp."

"So that's how you two have survived all those injuries!" she shook her head, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "How does it work?"

Faramir took over. "It's kind of like a more intense, permanent mind-touch; you've probably heard of it as calling from the shadow."

She shook her head ruefully. "I've tried and tried to do that by following the little paragraphs on it I've found in my reading, but never succeeded. I can find no complete method written down anywhere." she said.

"There is in the private library, however after Boromir does the mind-clasp you will be able to do the mind-touch, although you'll need training in it. We can help you with it."

She nodded, excited. "That would be extremely helpful."

Boromir grinned. "The scholar and the healer. Shall we move on, then? We need to finish the mind-clasp before we get ready for the ceremony."

"You're right," she said. "What do I need to do?"

He smiled softly. "Come with me. Faramir, we go to the gardens."

_Good idea. _Faramir sent to his brother. _They're nearly deserted_.

"Do you want me to go with you?" he asked out loud. _I'm here if you need me. But if you prefer, you can go on ahead and I'll meet you there presently._

Boromir nodded. "Do you what seems best to you." he told Faramir.

"Then I'll meet you there presently." Faramir said. "Best wishes to both of you."

Boromir grinned, offering his arm to Sedryn. "Your turn will come." he said.

"Yes, since you've been 'appropriated' I've noticed a new trend among Gondorian maidens -- that of throwing themselves decorously at my feet." Faramir remarked dryly, a smile playing about his lips. "Thanks, but I'll wait."

Boromir and Sedryn laughed. "Take your time, my brother, but we can't—haven't got any. We've got to hurry."

Faramir nodded. "Go on."

The walk to the gardens was short and companionable. When they arrived, Boromir unclasped his cloak and laid it on the grass. Sitting down, he motioned for Sedryn to join him. She positioned herself so that her back rested on his chest and her legs rested over Boromir's folded knees.

"So how do we do this?" she asked, letting her head fall back on Boromir's shoulder.

"Stay like you are," Boromir said, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders. "Close your eyes," he said, softly rubbing her scalp. "And stay relaxed. You'll feel me, but it won't hurt unless you fight it. Don't fight it."

"Mmmmmm…" was all she could manage, half-asleep from his blissful kneading behind her ears.

He smiled, taking a moment to watch her as she fell asleep. When he was certain that she was fully asleep, he closed his eyes and focused on connecting with her…

Although Sedryn knew she was asleep, she sprang awake when she felt Boromir's consciousness jolt her roughly.

"Sorry, sorry!" he said, beginning to rub her scalp once more. Sinking rapidly into sleep again, she wasn't sure if Boromir had actually spoken aloud – it sounded rather as though he had spoken inside her head.

Boromir closed his eyes and began again. This time it worked, his consciousness slowly seeping into hers like waves into sand.

All the air left Sedryn's lungs in a heave as she felt Boromir's presence in her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut as his memory, as his being, poured into hers. So many flashes of memories, so many images flashed by too quickly for her to catch and hold onto.

Suddenly the pictures stopped their dizzying whirl, leaving her in a dark, moonlit place in her mind. From nowhere, it seemed, Boromir stepped into a puddle of moonlight.

He spoke softly, knowing that the first time he spoke to her here in this place it would hurt a little. "Explore. Go on. Come closer. _Hold my hand._" He spoke silently, reaching his hand out to her as she flinched. "Enter my mind. _See me!_"

With every step she took, she could _feel _him somehow, feel his brave, courageous spirit whirl into hers. Finally, she clasped his outstretched hand. With that mental touch his mind was open to hers, and hers to his. "You first." He said. She understood.

She realized what a gift Boromir had given her. The entirety of his life was open to her, from his earliest memories to his deepest struggles.

"What would you like to see?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I don't know." she answered. "But Boromir," she continued. "I…I don't want to pry. What do you want me to see?"

He smiled – she felt it! "Everything." He said, looking deep into her eyes. "Everything."

She nodded, blushing. "Me too." She said, averting her eyes downward, away from his gaze so intensely full of love. "I have no secrets from you."

Boromir had never before felt such swirling emotions as he had at that moment, in that hidden place in his mind with Sedryn there, blushing, in his mind's eye. Taking her face into his hands, Boromir stooped and laid a kiss on the bridge of her nose. "Sedryn, I love you."

"I know. I feel it." Tears sprang unbidden to her eyes as she fully realized the boundless love he had for her. "I thought I already knew my Beloved, but now I realize that I know nothing at all."

Both of their hearts were pounding as his mouth moved lower, nearing her mouth. Each knew how much the other wanted that kiss, wanted that joining there in that twilit realm. Thoughts flitted through her mind and left as fast as they came, lost in the breathless time that waited years for moments to pass, moments until their lips joined.

His mouth finally touched the corner of hers. Another moment and he reached the silky swell of her lips, waiting eagerly for his touch.

He kissed her.

The tidal wave of power that surged over them when their lips touched was entirely unexpected.

Everything that Boromir was poured into Sedryn at an overwhelming rate. In mere moments, she found herself laughing and weeping and hurting and rejoicing, all at the same time. She discovered his joys, overshadowing all else; his spirit was too great to remain in the deep grief that sometimes unlocked the doors of its prison to torment him with ideas of a falling brother, a falling country. She wept for the numberless wounds he had earned in defending his country, feeling herself ache in remembered pain for all the long days and weeks he had writhed and moaned in delirious hurt. But there was still more, more to see…

Waiting patiently, Faramir smiled when he laid his hand on Sedryn's closed eyes and knew what Sedryn saw. She had now come to the core of Boromir, behind the memories, behind the emotions. Here she would find the unshakeable bedrock that Boromir stood on. Here she would find – herself.

Of course, Faramir was a part of it, too, but he had long since Sensed Sedryn's growing presence in his brother's heart. She was a part of it like he was, even more so, perhaps; everything Boromir thought was flavored with Sedryn; her loves, her beliefs, her principles. Faramir liked it that way – although he knew that Boromir loved him something felt right, stronger, to have Sedryn so entrenched in his brother's heart. That connection only deepened as Boromir too saw into Sedryn's heart and the hidden things that waited there, only visible to him.

Before this, Boromir had never known the depth of feeling Sedryn held guarded in her heart. The same things he held so dear to his heart were dear to hers as well, and as fiercely. In her love for family and country he saw golden threads, meeting and splitting and entwining but always leading further to some unknown object. He picked them up and followed them until he came to an empty place that somehow felt familiar, like it was a place he had lived in a long time. It resolved itself into a great hall, softly lit by the blue predawn light coming in through the windows. The light illuminated the many paintings and books lining the walls. Down the middle a table was set with a simple repast of bread, cheese, ham and ale. In the far corner a spinet waited, sheets of music on its ledge, to be played. Opposite from it there was a bed, the blankets thrown aside as though someone had just risen. Wordlessly he walked to it and sat down, resting his back against the wall. He Sensed things here, unvoiced ideas of courage, whispers of an unending loyalty, hints of a boundless love and he knew that was both what she offered him and what she asked in return.

He felt a smile growing on his face. She asked only what she knew he could give, and he gave it gladly…

Sedryn was lost in joy so full it needs must turn to tears. There, concealed deep down in that great heart she had found such things that inspired her with wild hope and joy and love. She found Faramir there, smiling and waiting for them. Already she could Sense some things about him, an air of Númenor about him, a dusty book in his hand. Wisdom indeed seemed to embody Herself in him, and she was well protected by the armed love Courage so happily offered.

After she saw Faramir she felt herself drawn onward to a dark place that was seemingly empty. But as she waited a slow sun began rising and tinting the sky a lighter color. It cast its rays upon a wrecked place, full of destruction, dead. Great battles had been won and lost here on this heart's battleground, but there was nothing left to rebuild after. It was charred, a desolate place with no people to tend to it and see to its growth. Kneeling, she took a handful of the dirt from the ground. Ashes. Still another time she felt tears come to her eyes. This place was dead.

But no. As she dashed the tears away from her eyes the ash changed before her eyes to fragrant, fertile soil. Dropping it in surprise, she looked at the ground as the grey hue of the ash gave way to red soil. Green vines seemed to spring from her feet and dashed merrily away, over stone and hill, covering the burnt battlefield, bringing it to life again. She laughed as new trees sprang and grew under charred stumps until the stumps rested like old crowns at the head of the new trees. New grass crinkled underfoot as she walked along the edge of the old field, now a garden bursting with new life. She was rooted here, but she didn't mind. She did not want to, for it was beautiful.

When Boromir laughed his exultant laugh the whole field burst into bloom. "You don't have to. You will always be here, now, just as I will always be in that hall with the books. When you want to mind-speak to me, think of that field and I'll hear you."

She nodded. "What now?"

"Time to go back, I think." Boromir answered. "Think yourself into wakefulness."

"That's it?" she said incredulously.

Boromir grinned. "The human mind is a wondrous thing..."

The first thing they saw upon waking was Faramir, leaning against a tree, waiting for them to wake.

"All clear?" he said, smiling at their happy expressions. "How do you feel?"

"Tired," they said, then blushed as they realized that they spoke at the same time.

Faramir laughed. "Still have some time to rest, if you need it."

"Likely we should. At least, I will." She answered, feeling her eyelids grow heavy as Boromir offered her a hand up.

He took her arm in his when she got up. "Might I escort you?" he asked.

Faramir rolled his eyes at the lovers. "I'm off," he said.

They didn't hear him as they walked off toward Sedryn's home. She was quite tired, feeling herself actually beginning to nod off more than once even as they walked onward. Boromir led her to her bed before taking his leave. Sedryn just pulled her shoes off and threw herself on the bed.

* * *

Many thanks to reviewers! Your words are immensely encouraging!


	4. Come Away, O Human Child!

Later, the knocking on her door slowly brought her to consciousness. "Sedryn? My dear?" The voice of her father Norlad could barely be heard through the thick oak door to Sedryn's room.

Sedryn smiled as she woke up. Her father was always welcome. "Come in, Father." She got up from bed and opened the door.

"My dear!" he said.

"Father!" she said, hugging the grey-haired man. "Come in."

"I only came to give you my blessing, and to see if there's anything else that needs to be done." Norlad said.

"Thank you, but I think everything has been accounted for." she blushed. "Wherever I go, Gondorians have offered me goods and services in preparation. Everywhere! I don't think that a single merchant hasn't sent me offers of service. I haven't the faintest idea why, considering that funds are so limited."

Norlad laughed. "They see the strength in you, Child! That is why. They'll love you, if they do not already, as they do Boromir and Faramir. You have some spirit, and that will help you if indeed you are the Healing of Gondor."

She blushed again, cherry-red. "Father." she hesitated a moment before going on. "Boromir and I…" she stopped and started again, running a hand through her hair. "Have you ever heard of a mind-clasp?" she asked.

"Well, yes, but the method has long since been lost," the gray-haired man said.

"No it hasn't." she said, shaking her head. "Boromir and Faramir and I are now connected in a way I've never dreamed of."

Norlad's eyes sparkled with excitement. "They know it? Sedryn, this is news. They used the mind-clasp often in Númenor! But beware, for if any others learn of this they may use it against you."

Her eyes hardened for a brief moment. "Nobody knows but for you. But think of it, father! In this day and age we are going back to Númenorean ways!

But suddenly Norlad seemed old, weighed down by the cares of age. "Númenor is lost, and if there is anything I do not want, little girl, it's that you were born in these dark days. But you have some strength in you, Child! I saw it even when you were young."

Sedryn went and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, guiding him to sit in the chair before her mirror. "If I am strong it is because your blood flows in my veins."

But Norlad shook his head. "No Sedryn. It has nothing to do with what I have given you." His deep grey eyes bored into her own. "The coming days will be difficult for you and your Beloved. Understand, with your marriage your allegiance is to him, and through him to all Gondor, past, present, and future, to the end of both your life and his, to what_ever _end."

"I know," she said, nodding. "But I already do love him and I love Gondor. I am happy to offer my life to him, to whatever end. Father, _I am already given to him, _and I want nothing more."

"Then you have chosen well. You have my blessing, my dear. May you live long and well!" he answered, watching how her eyes seemed to mirror the depths of his own soul. "Already I feel a different presence about you. Your Númenorean blood has been awakened."

"Perhaps," she said. "Perhaps it is only in preparation for the time to come."

He nodded. "That may be. Is there aught you would ask of me, before I go?"

She smiled. "No Father, thank you." she said, and raised herself a bit to kiss him on the cheek.

"Then I will see you presently." He said, smiling and leaving the room.

After he left, Sedryn went to her closet and retrieved her wedding dress. Though she had chosen a simple design for economy, the seamstresses had invested hours of work embroidering silvery patterns into the light blue silk. Lacing it up quickly, she slid her feet into her new slippers just as a maidservant knocked at the door. "Come in." she said, hoping that the hairdressing wouldn't take too long. Boromir would come soon, and with him not only Faramir but Denethor, Lord Imrahil of Dol Amroth, and his daughter Lothíriel and others as well.

As the maid dressed her hair with pearls and white flowers, Sedryn heard a steadily strengthening hum outside as the crowd lined the traditional route that Boromir would lead her from the First Level to the terrace on the Seventh Level.

Her heart began pounding when the roar outside diminished to a complete silence with the advent of Denethor and the others. Faramir, she knew beforehand, was already there waiting with her mare. She could feel Boromir's mounting excitement as Denethor knocked and she descended down the flight of stairs, and knew that both Boromir and she held their breaths in anticipation. When her friend Elena opened the door, the people cheered, but she only had eyes for Boromir standing next to Denethor, and he for her. He was resplendent in his Captain-General's garb, the Seven Stars seeming to sparkle even brighter to mirror those embroidered into her own gown.

She barely heard Denethor's muttered remonstrance to stop acting like a lovesick girl and pretend at least to have some of the dignity her father carried. Smiling, she took Boromir's proffered hand and followed him to where Faramir held her saddled mare, Lethe.

For just a moment, she felt his joy and happiness shine through their mind-link. Sharing a smile with him amid the crowd's smiling and laughing, she walked up the boosting steps and sat astride her horse, arranging her skirts so that they reached to her ankles. Faramir handed the reins over to Boromir, still standing smiling at his bride. Boromir didn't see them until the Gondorians around him laughed as Faramir prodded him in the chest with them. He laughed too when he realized his "distraction." Taking the reins, he stole one last look at Sedryn then led onward. They gathered in pairs, Faramir on his horse next to Sedryn and behind them Denethor and Norlad. Imrahil and Lothíriel were last in the party, before the nobles and guards.

As it was a custom in Gondor for the people of Gondor to provide the flowers to make up the bride's spray of flowers, Boromir led her down the road, where they waited. Seven flowers from each level, all different shapes and kinds, was the tradition.

She accepted her first, a delicate white gardenia, from a little one barely able to walk. "F-For Lady Thedryn," he lisped as Boromir lifted him up to hand the flower to her.

"Thank you, kind sir." she said, her eyes growing soft as she regarded the little infant before her. She kissed him before Boromir put him down. Boromir shared a quick look with her before going back to the reins and she didn't need to be connected to him to feel his hope for, someday, one of their own.

Somewhere else, a young man offered one, a spray of apple blossoms. Sedryn looked into his eyes and smiled, feeling kinship with him when she saw the hopes and ideals swirling in his eyes like eagles in the sky. Oh, she knew those thoughts, those dreams!

On a different Level, an old Woman standing next to a white-haired old man in a chair handed her a sheath of gaily-colored crocuses, carefully cultivated in the cool of their garden. Bowing her head, Sedryn accepted it. "In hopes of a bond that lasts as long as yours, Mother." she said respectfully.

"No, child; longer, much longer!" the woman said, kissing Sedryn's hand.

A woman, grief and weariness written in every line of her dejected body, gave Sedryn an ethereal white rose. One of the petals suddenly dropped like a tear from Sedryn's hand to land on her dress. "In hopes of your courage, Lady." She paused a moment to lay a hand on the woman's shoulder and squeeze it comfortingly. The woman's dark mourning dress rustled under Sedryn's hand.

The faces of those lining the streets and doorways and windows whirled into a blur as time went by, but Sedryn knew she would never forget those whom she had accepted her flowers from. Their faces were imprinted on her mind, and Sedryn knew she would never regret giving her entire life to her people.

"_Thank you." _Boromir answered.

For a moment she was startled until she remembered that he knew her thoughts. _"How can I not?" _she answered. _"They look to us to make things right and I find that I would do anything to make it so. I did not know I felt so strongly about this!"_

"_I know," _he said after a moment's pause. _"I feel the same. I will never stop fighting for our people until we are at peace."_

"_I am with you," _she answered.

The sudden silence brought them back to themselves. They were at the Seventh Level. Dismounting, Sedryn and Boromir climbed the steps up to the terrace, and then turned to face Denethor and Norlad as they mounted.

Standing on the step directly below Boromir and Sedryn, Norlad took Boromir's right hand and Sedryn's left and stood there, waiting for Denethor to guide the couple through the beautiful old Númenorean vows.

A beaming Denethor stood before the three and spoke. "Today we are gathered to celebrate a joyful occasion rather than a sad one. Today Boromir and Sedryn wed, and with their coming happy days we look forward to happier days for all of Gondor. Let the wedding of the heir of Gondor and the healer of Gondor inspire you with fresh hope! For today life springs new."

Norlad felt a smile growing on his face as he stood there between the two dearest to him and felt them both quivering with nervousness. In a symbolic gesture, he took their two hands and joined them together, signifying that now they depended on each other, rather than their parents. _"For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh; so then they are no longer two, but one flesh."(1) _Oh, but that was long, so long ago, thought Norlad. He remembered a time long ago he had read that scrap of poetry to Sedryn's mother, before they married. Now it was their daughter's turn.

Boromir spoke his vows first, the beautiful words he had chosen resounding into the silence. "When in the morning I awaken with you lying next to me I will touch your sleeping eyes and again realize that I will give my last drop of blood merely to give you an untroubled sleep. When at midday I see you among the people in our City of Stone I will smile and again realize, my love is given to one who adds her love to mine and spreads it through Gondor. When in the evening I see you approach me with your gentle smile I will feel the length of the day drain away into nothingness. When at night you lay beside me with your hands caressing my face, I will hold you and feel that we do not fight for naught. And when in the years to come, years of joy and peace, I will see you with our little children, playing at your feet, and I know that I could be granted no greater life than the one that I will have with you. In the hope of these do I promise to care for you as a king his crown. I promise to protect you. To help you, and strengthen you though my strength is taken from you. And as my final promise…" Boromir pulled a little embroidered sack and opened it to reveal a single crimson rose. Taking it from the bag, he placed it in her hair, right where some of it was held back by a lacy band. "I crown you with a promise of passionate love."

Sedryn answered: "When in the morning I awake with you tracing my face I will smile, blushing, for I will have awoken from dreams of your skin on mine. When at midday I glimpse you through the crowds my heart will bound for in the short time since I saw you last I will have already missed you. When in the evening I see you smiling at me I will laugh and know that my love strengthens one whose love is already boundless." She gripped his arms tightly, barely aware of the hushed crowd as she met Boromir's gaze with one every bit as intense as his. But she wasn't finished yet. "And when at night I rest in your arms I revel in your strength for I know this: that by the strength in you does this land still hold to hope for a different time than the one they have been living in so long. And in return for your promises I offer mine own, which are these: with pleasure, I promise to heal you when you are ill. I will stay with you when you are hurt. I will bear your children and be the lady of your house. By the blood of my forefathers, I will not fail you because I love you. And to prove this…" she took from the folds of her dress another embroidered bag, showing from its shape that it too held a blossom. From the fabric a red and white rose emerged. Oh so carefully, she disentangled it from the bag and arranged it in the little slot on his sash, just over his heart. "I tell you what I hold dearest to my heart: my union with you."

By the time she finished she was breathless from the emotion she had poured into her vows. Nearly in a daze, she heard Denethor's final words.

"Then, children, you've heard your promises. Remember them, commit them to memory, that when the time comes you will recall your promises to one another and fulfill them. Let it be written in the books that henceforth, Boromir and Sedryn are one. As the Steward of Gondor, I pronounce you wedded!"

The crowd erupted in cheers as Boromir and Sedryn turned hand in hand to face them. Overhead Faramir unfurled the banner of the House of Hurin and watched happily as the wind sent the banner flapping upright in the breeze overhead.

They were wedded! The thought sent rushes of exhilaration through their minds as they walked through a haze of congratulatory shouts to their seats on the green.

_Lady Sedryn of Gondor, wife of the Steward's heir. It sounds well. _Boromir sent, smiling as he met her cheery gaze.

_Not as well as it feels._ She answered.

_Ah, well. _Boromir said, chuckling. _I can't top that._

Just then Faramir appeared out of nowhere, a goblet of wine in each hand and the third on his head. Boromir blinked. "Are you drunk?" he asked point blank.

"No," Faramir said, the corner of his lips quirking. "The top one for the lady," he continued, kneeling down so that Sedryn could retrieve her goblet. "And these for you and me." he said, offering the tankard in his right hand to his brother. "To your eternal health and fellowship." He said.

"And yours!" Sedryn answered, toasting him.

"Impressive." Boromir said. "You didn't even shake."

"Ranger." Faramir said smugly. "Much more…subtle, shall we say, and steady, than an average Captain. And, quiet."

Boromir laughed. "I can outdo you anyday." He told his cheeky brother.

"With a bow? Stealth?" Faramir laughed. "I will admit to being taught by the best in swordfighting and fisticuffs, but otherwise…"

This time Sedryn laughed. "Caught! Caught. Outdo him there, if you dare!" she teased Boromir. The three of them laughed together.

Faramir took Sedryn's other arm and pointed at the flowers in her bouquet, his voice suddenly gone quiet and soft. "The people of Gondor have high hopes for you, Sedryn." He said. "The gardenias symbolize joy. Apple blossoms are symbols of promises, and the crocus mean foresight.

She looked at him, smiling shyly. "Everyone I asked only knew the meanings of the colors of roses. They told me the meanings of the other flowers had been long forgotten. Where did you find them?"

He smiled. "A little forgotten volume in the library. I'll show you sometime. But now I've kept you long enough from the madding crowd. Go eat before they swarm."

The couple laughed. "Come with us." Boromir said. "You haven't eaten yet, have you?"

"No, but surely you wish for some solitude." Faramir said.

"Yes, but time for that later," he said. "Join us."

With a smile, Faramir fell into step with the couple, and soon all of them were plunged into a whirl of people, food, and laughter that would last long into the day. Norlad, recalling the day, remembered how the three of them seemed nigh inseparable, and how they all seemed to grow happier and brighter as the day passed. Though, he supposed, that could be chalked up to the wine. He had noticed how Boromir and Sedryn, though newly married, still addressed Faramir as much as they did each other. Courage, Healing, and Wisdom – it was extraordinarily apt.

By the end of the day Sedryn was exhausted but happy. The wedding had gone off beautifully, and there had been dozens of toasts to the new bride and groom wishing their health and happiness. But finally, when hours later the festivities ended and the last of the well-wishers had gone their way Boromir took Sedryn's arm and led her to their House, laying a gentle kiss on her cheek in response to her sudden blushes…

* * *

(1) Mark 10:8


	5. Full Fathom Five

"_And then he will be mine, he will lie revealed to me;  
__Patent and open beneath my eye he will sleep of me;  
__He will lie negligent, resign his truth to me, and I  
__Shall watch the dawn light up for me this fate of mine."  
__--D.H. Lawrence, Wedding Morn_

Lying next to Boromir the following morning, Sedryn propped herself up on her hand and studied his beloved features visible in the dim light coming through the curtains. Last night…Last night had been…_ Dreams of your skin on mine,_ she suddenly recalled, blushing. It seemed that she had meant her promises to him more deeply than she realized.

"I knew you did." Boromir said sleepily, lifting a heavy arm to pull her back down to the pillows and closer to him. She settled happily into his arms, settling a kiss on his lips. For a while they laid there in silence. Sedryn felt her eyes growing heavy and was about to slip back into sleep when a tentative knock sounded at the door. She felt Boromir shift behind her. "Don't get up." He told her, throwing a dressing gown on. "I'll get it."

Opening the door, he found one of Denethor's squires waiting. "I apologize for disturbing you and your lady, my Lord, but I have been commanded to tell you that the Lord Steward requests your presence as well as that of Lady Sedryn and Lord Faramir as soon as you are able. He says that it is not urgent, but that the sooner you can come the better."

"Thank you." Boromir answered. "Was there anything else?"

The man shook his head. "No sir."

"Then that will be all. Thanks."

The man bowed and left.

Boromir turned back into the room and climbed back into the bed. "What do you think?" he said. "Shall we get out of bed?"

She crinkled her nose. "And I was so hoping to have you all to myself." She said drolly.

Boromir laughed. "Oh, you do. Always."

She smiled, suddenly shy. "Thank you." she said quietly. "_I love you," _she Sent.

"_Likewise, Lady. Likewise." _He answered as she sat up and tossed the blankets off. She smiled at him as he followed her example and began changing into his clothes. "So. Shall we break our fast and go to the Throne Room or shall we go to the Throne Room first?"

"Let's eat first. I'd rather be official and subservient on a full stomach," she remarked.

He laughed. "Very well then. First day of wedded life – are you ready?"

She nodded, and they went to breakfast. It was a quick affair—neither of them spent much time in culinary pursuits.

A short while after they ate, Faramir met them before the Throne Room. _Here we go again, _he sent to both of them as they walked in.

"Ah! There you are," Denethor said when he spotted them walking in. "I was beginning to think I should send another messenger—evidently Courage and Healing spent last night in, shall we say, other pursuits?" He said with a knowing grin. Sedryn felt a blush suffuse into her face, very much surprised that the Steward would bring up such a thing, however obliquely, in public.

"Don't blush child; we're all adults here. At any rate that's not why I called you here. The Elven Lord Elrond of Rivendell has sent a messenger to me, calling a meeting with representatives of all free peoples of Middle-earth to discuss something of great importance that has come to Rivendell, of _Isildur's Bane!_"

Boromir's look of surprise did not go unnoticed by the Steward. "You know of it?"

"I…dreamt of it." Boromir said, suddenly recalling his dream from yesterday morning. "I meant to tell you of it yesterday but I forgot to when you told us of your prophetic dream."

"Tell it to me now," Denethor ordered, seeming somewhat troubled. Boromir complied.

"The eastern sky grew dark, and a growing thunder sounded, but in the West a pale light lingered. Out of it a voice, soft yet clear, spoke, crying:

_Seek for the Sword that was broken:  
__In Imladris it dwells;  
__There shall be counsels taken  
__Stronger than Morgul-spells.  
__There shall be shown a token  
__That Doom is near at hand,  
__For Isildur's Bane shall waken,  
__And the Halfling forth shall stand."_

_Why didn't you tell us! _Faramir and Sedryn shouted through the link. _I too have dreamt this dream, many times. _Faramir added. _I could have explained most of it to you._

_I forgot. _Boromir answered, abashed. _In all honesty, I forgot. But why didn't you say anything?_

_What would I say, hm? What could I possibly say that would make Denethor listen to me? _Faramir retorted. _Let's see what he says to you._

Denethor was uneasy. For a while, he was silent. "The Sword that was Broken…" He spoke slowly. "That can only be Narsil. Doom…Isildur's Bane. A Halfling is a Hobbit. But—Bah! Doom? What doom? I have dreamt of victory." He shook his head. "I must think on this. Leave me; I will call for you when I have come to a decision."

_Interesting,_ Faramir said. _He grows troubled._

Boromir nodded. "Certainly, my Lord." He said.

Denethor watched them bow and retreat beyond the gate to the Hall. For such a thing as this…Denethor gathered his robes up and swept away to the Tower. If Boromir had dreamt it then Denethor would dare…dare to consult the stone…

……

When they were summoned to the Great Hall shortly after midday all three of them were hard put not to express surprise at Denethor's ineffably weary visage. He moved slowly down the steps, but when he faced them his eyes were unnatural and foreign.

"Boromir and Sedryn, you will leave tomorrow for Imladris. Find Isildur's Bane and bring it to Minas Tirith."

No sooner had the words left Denethor's mouth before Sedryn felt a horrible premonition of fear sweep over her. Breathing deeply, she forced herself to listen to Denethor's continuing words.

"I have looked, and I have seen. War will come to Gondor, but it can be averted only if you bring the…weapon here to me."

"It does not belong in Gondor." Faramir said, stepping forward as though propelled by some unseen force. His eyes were glazed and farseeing, and Denethor felt a chill go down his spine as the dark eyes were turned onto him. He knew that Faramir saw a vision.

"Bring the Ring to Gondor and Gondor will fall so far that it will remain desolate for ever. There will be two dark Morgul-towers staring eyelessly at each other from a barren plain." Faramir said. "The City of the Men of Numenor will lie forgotten, and the living stones will crumble until they do not linger even in the minds of the enslaved men working to slake Sauron's greed. Send any Gondorian and you sentence all of Gondor to death."

Both Boromir and Sedryn sprang to Faramir's side as he collapsed to his knees, unable to bear the strength of the vision that had him in its grip. Pain coursed through Faramir's body as he felt the land he was bound to burn in an everlasting fire. Boromir and Sedryn, dragged into his mind through the mind-clasp, scrabbled for some mental purchase before they were able to hoist Faramir out of the vision. Breathless, they sagged against one another.

Denethor's eyes were oddly soft as he looked at Faramir. "What you see is only a possibility, Captain, and it is one that Gondor has stared in the face for a very long time."

This time Boromir shook his head. "Sir, I cannot abandon my post. You know of my oath." He said quietly.

Indeed, Boromir's Oath was spoken of among all the soldiers of Gondor. He had sworn publicly that he would never let a battle end without seeing him at the front line. In essence, he had sworn never to let his soldiers—and all Gondor's soldiers were his soldiers, for he was the Captain-General of Gondor—fight without him.

Denethor's eyes hardened again. "Nevertheless," he barked. "That is my final decision. You will go. That is an order, Boromir!"

"Send me instead!" Faramir said. "Do not send the strength of Gondor away from it. I will go!"

"Cease your endless noise!" Denethor roared. "You can hardly stand after one of your visions. Boromir and Sedryn will go. I know your strengths, Faramir, and this is not one of them. Slink back to your precious Rangers, and tend to your duties!"

"The protection of Gondor IS my duty!" Faramir hissed, unfazed by his father's yelling.

"Stand down, Man! Stand down!" Denethor fumed. "Enough! You will protect Gondor, you mewling puppy. If you remember, you are the Captain of the Ithilien Rangers."

"We will go, Father. I will abandon my Oath and my country for your strange notions about Isildur's Bane. I do not promise to bring it here; I will only go because of my dream. However let me warn you, lord! My men are well accustomed to being accountable to Faramir. They trust him." Boromir said, his steely voice showing how much he was restraining his anger.

"The sooner you go the sooner you can return." Denethor said, but he didn't meet their eyes. "You are dismissed."

Bowing stiffly from the waist, the three stalked out of the room. _To the house, _Boromir said abruptly.

They walked together in silence until they reached the house, alone with their thoughts. Sedryn poked the embers in the fireplace into a blaze and put the kettle on to boil as they gathered around the kitchen table, Boromir and Faramir on each side and Sedryn standing by the fireplace.

Heaving a deep sigh, Boromir spoke. "We've gotten our orders." He said, and both Faramir and Sedryn heard the hurt and anger and distrust Boromir tried so carefully to hide. Sedryn went to stand behind him, resting her hands on his shoulders. He leaned his head back against her chest.

"We'll get through," she whispered, her voice full of desperate promise. "I'll pack for us both; you do what you need to."

He nodded. "I'll have to tell the men." Boromir said. "I know you would prefer not to be tied away from the Rangers, Faramir, so I will instruct Captain Ildrin to take charge of the Men unless either the City or Osgiliath comes under fire, in which case they will look to you for leadership. Will that suffice?" Boromir said.

Faramir nodded his head. "That would be best," he said, and Sedryn watched as the familiar worry she saw whenever they faced battle or danger settle on to the brothers faces, and she knew that it descended on her own face as well.

"I'll ship out tomorrow with the Rangers as well. We go to Ithilien." Faramir said. Boromir blinked in acknowledgement as Sedryn moved away to retrieve the boiling kettle. She poured out the tea and added a spoonful of sugar and a splash of milk to each . Accepting his cup, Boromir inhaled deeply as the fragrant steam wafted up. Sedryn handed Faramir his cup and sat down next to Boromir with her own clasped in both hands.

"We will get through," she insisted. "And if we don't, we'll make sure Gondor does, in one way or another."

"And if Gondor doesn't?" Faramir asked, his intent not to wound but to hear her answer. "We all felt a premonition when he ordered it. Gondor might not get through, Sedryn."

She turned eyes gone suddenly old to Faramir, and he realized that she had long since fully understood the danger Gondor faced every day, long before they were ordered to this fool's errand, long before even she and Boromir had wedded.

"You know…" he said, the words more a statement than a question.

She nodded. "I know. If Gondor falls then it won't matter. It will fall because everyone will be dead, and I'd far rather them dead than enslaved." She said. "I'd do my part to ensure it." She said, shrugging. Her voice had gone very low, and she did not meet their eyes.

In the thousands of times both Boromir and Faramir had thought of the ways Gondor could fall, could die, they had come to the same conclusion. They would rather kill their people than see them enslaved, and out of the three none knew whether it was right or wrong—they only knew that they would do it without hesitation at the worst. Boromir put an arm around her. "As would we both." He said.

"Then let us keep that in our minds, that we will never truly be enslaved as long as we can think, and when we can't it will not matter anymore." Faramir said and drained off his cup.

"We should tell the soldiers." Boromir said. Faramir nodded and got up from the bench.

"Shall I come?" Sedryn asked, unsure of her role here.

Boromir looked searchingly at her for a few long moments. "Yes." He said finally. "Please come."


	6. Never Let Go

"…My Men!" Boromir roared over the soldiers collected in the green. To look at him, his voice light and carefree, would be to think that he was going to a picnic, a lark somewhere in the woods. Just by looking at him, thought Sedryn smiling, made her feel better. No wonder they followed him. "For the first and hopefully the last time in my entire life, my position as heir to the Stewardship has outranked my position as your Captain-General. I must leave on a journey with Sedryn—" Boromir laughed as the men cheered for him and his new wife, "—and I do not know how long it will be before we return. If we return." His tone sobered. "I cannot tell you how ashamed I am to leave you when I have sworn an Oath never to let you fight without me, but my Lord commands." Shouts of encouragement rang out from the crowd. One man shouted an enthusiastic affirmation of their trust in him. Boromir's face turned grim. _I cannot promise that we will return, _he Sent to the others, disgusted but at what, he was unsure. _They trust you, _Sedryn said to Boromir and Faramir. _I trust you._

_They trust us. _Boromir corrected, then turned again to the Men. "Captain Ildrin will lead you, as he so often has, except in event of either the Citadel or Osgiliath being attacked. In which case all warriors of Gondor will answer to Faramir."

Murmurs of approval passed through the men, most of them nodding or smiling at Faramir. All but the newest of the soldiers had spent at least some time under Faramir's guidance and approved of how he led his soldiers.

Standing beside Boromir and Sedryn from their elevated point on the podium, Faramir felt the tension in his shoulders drain away as he looked out over the massed soldiers of Gondor and saw their acceptance of him as their possible leader. Now if only he could be sure he would not lead them astray…

_You won't, _came Boromir and Sedryn's simultaneous reply. _They've accepted you, _Boromir said.

_That's nonsense! _Faramir retorted. _I might!_

_No more than I might, _Boromir shrugged. _No more than Ildrin would. No more than Ancir or Damrod or Mablung._

_I wish I could offer some reassurance, Faramir, _Sedryn added, _but I have nothing to offer but my support._

Faramir nodded in thanks. He appreciated their words more than they knew, but he did not know whether he had proven to himself that he could lead the entire army of Gondor. Rangers yes, he could, but soldiers? They were different. Although Faramir was as well-drilled in soldiery as Boromir was, he was accustomed to thinking as a Ranger, using stealth rather than might. Well, he would have guidance, if he needed it, by asking the old campaigners…

"Thank you, Men! May you long stand proud on the walls of Minas Tirith!" Boromir said aloud. "Dismissed!"

But the men waited until Boromir, Sedryn, and Faramir descended from the podium and walked through the path the men made for them. Though they accepted that Boromir had to leave, they did not know where, nor did they know for how long he and Sedryn would be gone. There were many dangers out in the wild.

The Men reached out to in some way touch Boromir and Sedryn, Faramir walking along behind, happy to see the loyalty in the Men's eyes as they shook hands with Boromir or traced one of Sedryn's curls. Sedryn, touched at the gentleness reflected in the hard fighting men, found her eyes dewing over with tears for the gallants of Gondor. _O proud walls! White Tower! O winged crown and throne of gold!_

Later that night, as they lay in bed, Boromir held Sedryn tight. Sensing that he was restless, she snuggled up to him, burrowing until her head rested against his chest, his heartbeat sounding steadily. "Now you see what you have married into." Boromir said quietly into the darkness above her head. "Do you regret it?"

"No." she said immediately, looking up so that her eyes, glinting in the moonlight, met his.

"Do you not even wish to consider it?" he said.

"There is nothing to think about, Boromir." She said, moving away to sit up in bed, and his arms itched to hold her again. Through the mind-clasp he felt her searching for a way to prove her answer. Finally, she gave up. "I do not know what to tell you," she said, "other than that _regret _never passed my mind. Unless…do _you _regret it?" she asked, suddenly a little breathless.

"No!" he said, his voice a little loud. "Never." He said more softly. "I—I do not want you to feel obliged or tied to me, that is all."

"Obliged? Tied to? I _am _your wife." She said incredulously. "Do me the honor of comprehending what that means, and do not speak so ridiculously. 'Obliged to'—I love you, you great lump of flesh, I'd follow you to the ends of Arda, and not because I'm 'tied to you!'"

The ruse worked. She felt him smile and some of his apprehension drain away as he pulled her back down into his arms. "Thank you, my little ribbon," he said, chuckling to himself.

She laughed. "The icing on the cake!"

But Boromir lay awake a while longer, watching as her eyelids grew heavy and she drifted into sleep. He wished from the depths of his heart that they had not been ordered to go on the long journey. He feared that if he left the city he would not return. So for the last time for a long while the Children of Gondor slept in their bed, their hearts heavy with the weight of a land they were tied to.

* * *

It's a short chapter, but a sweet one, I think :). I promise a longer one later -- this just seemed a good place to end it. Many thanks to reviewers.


	7. Un Giorno Per Noi

They woke to a grey, bleak dawn the day of their journey. Dressing and eating quickly and silently, they shouldered their bedrolls, weapons, and saddlebags and made for the stables.

By the time they got there Faramir had considerately saddled their horses. Lost in thought, he stood pensively between the horses, their reins in each hand. He looked up as they approached.

The air was awkward and uncomfortable around them as Faramir wordlessly handed them the reins. Wordlessly, they walked down to the First Level together, Boromir and Sedryn leading their horses by the reins.

Sedryn felt herself grow sad as she recalled the last time the three of them had traversed these steps. That had been on her wedding day not three days before. Then, she had been positively giddy. Now…she squared her shoulders and looked ahead. Why did it feel so very wrong to leave Gondor?

They didn't stop until they were out of earshot of the sentries that let them through the Outer Gate. They delayed the inevitable as long as they could, but finally Faramir was the first to speak.

"You should go," he said, his voice flat and lifeless.

Boromir nodded. "Namarie." He said simply, honoring his brother in the only way he could.

Sedryn stepped up next. Gripping her former Captain by the arms, she looked into his eyes and took a breath to speak. Letting it out in a rush, she turned away, cursing her weakness. Faramir saw tears in her eyes as she moved from him, and suddenly the words seemed to come more easily. Walking forward, he took her by the arm, turned her around, and hugged her. "Hold to hope," he told her. "It is not yet lost."

She nodded.

"We will come back, Faramir, if it is in any way possible," Boromir said. "Even if we have to be carried home on litters, if it is in our power, we will return. Nothing short of death will keep us from Gondor, and that is a promise." He said passionately, clasping his brother's shoulder.

Faramir nodded. "I know," he said. "I wish I was going with you, if only to make sure you don't hurt yourself."

Abruptly, Boromir stepped into Faramir's ready embrace and wrapped his arms around his brother's slender body. "For Eru's sake take care of yourself, Brother!" he said, and Faramir found himself rapidly blinking back tears when he heard the quiver in Boromir's voice. Too clearly, he remembered his vision of the death of Gondor, and he knew instinctively that there was a chance to avert that doom only if they stayed. This order of Denethor's was madness, and yet Faramir knew that Boromir hoped to at least attempt to secure some sort of help for Gondor so he said nothing. Finally Boromir pulled away and mounted his horse.

"Remember this day, Little Brother," he said, and then they were gone. Faramir stayed in that place a long while…

Not until the long hours of daylight passed and the lengthening shadows began to fade did Boromir speak. "We'd better make camp for the night."

Dismounting from their horses, they unsaddled them and released them to graze before tending to their own needs. As they were still close enough to Gondor, they risked lighting a fire to warm up. Bustling about, Sedryn cut thick slices of traveler's bread and topped it with thick hunks of seasoned beef and potatoes she had heated up in a pot on the fire. Seeing Boromir's inquisitive smile, she shrugged. "I thought it would be nice not to have to hunt the first day. There's even tea for after." She said, handing him a plate. She made one for her own and sat next to him.

They ate in a companionable silence. Quickly, they finished eating and Sedryn put everything away as Boromir whistled for the horses and tethered them nearby. By the time he had returned Sedryn had both set out the bedrolls and prepared the tea. Accepting the proffered mug gratefully, he sat down on his bedroll and leaned against the ample trunk of a redwood tree. Sedryn, already enveloped in her blankets, cuddled up to him and rested her head on his shoulder. "I'll take the first watch," he said, sensing her tiredness. Smiling tiredly at him, she nodded and moved down so that her head rested on Boromir's outstretched legs. "Thanks," she said, and closed her eyes.

He had tired her today, he realized, unable to resist tracing her cheek down to her jaw with his finger. Resting his head against the tree, he watched and waited for as long as he could before waking her up and switching places with her, his head on her lap.

Sedryn had the final watch of the night, and she was loath to waken Boromir, deeply asleep and at ease. Even the rising sun seemed gentle as it lit up the sky and caressed his face with warm beams. Bending over, she kissed him, and a smile flickered over her face as she heard his sleepy intake of breath. "Good morning, love."

He rubbed his hand over his face. "Good morning," he answered, sitting up and stretching.

"Good morning!" she answered lightly, feeling cheery in spite of herself. "Sleep well?"

"Splendidly," he said, getting to his feet. "What's for breakfast?"

"Egg and sausage bread." She answered, digging in one of the packs. She pulled out a roll and tossed it at him. He laughed as he caught it—that was the biggest roll he had ever seen. And as he bit into it he was happy to realize that his wife could cook.

Later that day, Sedryn shifted uncomfortably in her saddle and sighed. Boromir was obviously preoccupied with something, but at this point she was beyond caring. Eru, she was bored! They hadn't said a word since their midday meal, and not much before that. She supposed she should have just been glad of the chance to ride with her husband, but they had been riding for two days! She sighed again unconsciously.

"What?" Boromir said suddenly, startling her. At her questioning blink, he said, "You've been sighing like a lovelorn…well, like you're lovelorn, for the last two miles."

She snickered. "That's one way to look at it, I suppose. Truth is, I'm bored, and you're sitting there like those trolls we found turned into stone once, with their faces caught in mindless grimaces."

"Sorry," he said, feeling abashed. "I'm just…a bit…worried. It's a very long journey, and so it's a very long time to be away from Gondor."

"So it is," She agreed, her face as grave as his. "But it is not given to us to chose our paths. Trust to Gondor to care for Her own."

"And hope we are included in that as well." Boromir added. "Let's speed up a bit and we'll stop early. We're about two days away from Dunharrow."

She nodded and clucked a few words to her horse so it sped up. An hour and a half later they stopped at a small, high stone outcropping.

"Faramir would have loved this," Sedryn said. "He would have said 'I can hold this till the end of time with just ten Rangers.'"

Boromir chuckled. "He would, that. Come on, let's eat."

Building a fire, they ate and shortly after, Sedryn took the first watch. Night passed quickly; it only seemed like minutes before they awoke and began on another dreary, drizzly day of journeying. Midmorning they found a wild apple tree and stopped a while to gather a few of them. Sedryn munched on apples throughout the day.

Not far from Rohan, they stayed that night in a small abandoned cabin, bringing their horses with them rather than leave them outside. Sedryn rubbed her hands in glee when she saw the fireplace. Cover and warmth! As Boromir went out hunting, Sedryn gathered scraps of wood for a fire she tended until Boromir returned with a hare in his hands, ready for cooking.

But the stew, alas, was not to be eaten by the couple, for in their most vulnerable moment as Boromir returned from hunting, there was no one taking guard. No one saw the Orcs coming in around the corner until it was too late.

Their only warning was the harsh guttural sound of Orc-language as the group neared. Sedryn was rooting for salt in her pack and Boromir was skinning the hare when they heard the noise. Both stiffened.

Boromir cursed fluently as they grabbed their packs and slung them over their shoulders again. Taking care not to be seen, Boromir walked to the window and peered out.

There was no use, he realized, both them working out that the Orcs had likely seen the fire from the window and had taken advantage of their carelessness to surround them. Again, Boromir cursed his lack of attention. "Dryn, I'm so sorry," he said, worry creasing his rugged features.

Sedryn looked at him oddly. Abruptly, she spoke. "Orders, Captain?" she said.

Boromir felt a slow smile make its way onto his face. He understood what she meant; by putting herself back into the role of fighter she made it easier for him to step back into the role of captain.

"Right." He said, and Sedryn smiled at hearing the tone of command in his voice. Through the mind clasp she heard his thoughts:

_They know we're here; we don't know how many there are; we're likely surrounded. They will attack…We have to ride out._ He realized.

_Do we wait for dawn? _Sedryn asked.

_We can't fight that long. _Boromir answered. _Ready yourself. We fight our way out of here. _

Sedryn nodded. Picking up a bucket, she doused the fire and unsheathed her sword amidst the nearing shouts and taunts of the Orcs. The Orcs were close enough for Boromir and Sedryn to see their blackened bodies and red gleaming eyes through the window.

"Hurry!" Boromir barked, intending to leave before the Orcs smashed through the window.

"The door's too narrow for both of us," he said as she mounted her horse. "The wall's rickety; we'll pound the side out and go crashing through. Then ride, ride, ride!" He said, his horse rearing as he led their charge. "Howl like a banshee; they might think there's more of us."

Roaring and shouting their challenges to the wind, they crashed through, holding their swords at ready. Working in tandem, they carved a way through the melee, Boromir on the left and Sedryn on the right.

Sedryn focused on the numbers, nothing else. Doggedly, she fought her way through three, seven, ten Orcs, wishing she had a hand free so that she could fight with her sling as well. Boromir, still angry for getting into this predicament, fought with a savage elegance that had Orcs falling, trailing behind his horse, headless, armless, legless. Necks and torsos slit.

They had almost won through. Sedryn raised her arm to deliver the killing blow to an Orc but another one, seizing his opportunity, hacked with his cutlass at Sedryn's unprotected thigh. He grinned when he felt the blade thud into bone. Sedryn shuddered as he pulled the weapon out and raised it, its edge bloodied, for the kill; but Boromir, reaching into a bag, pulled an onion out of the bag and lobbed it at the Orc. He could feel Sedryn slow her breathing and try to master the pain. It worked, but just barely.

_Have to get out, _she Sent desperately, her words slurring with pain. _Blood loss—I can't last long! _Already black spots hovered at the edge of her vision. With every passing second more blood dripped out of the gash in her leg. Her senses swam.

In a very risky move, Boromir gave his horse the lead. Reaching over, he took Sedryn's reins and, using the mind-clasp, he sent just enough alertness to stay upright. Still, he sensed he could not do it long; the blood loss was making her weaker and weaker.

As soon as they broke away from the few remaining Orcs Boromir tied Sedryn's reins to his saddle. He reached over and grabbed Sedryn's arm. As gently as he could, he pulled and maneuvered her until, now unconscious, she was in his arms, the blood still pulsing from her leg. Setting her down before him so that her back rested against his chest, he pulled out a bandage from her pack and tied it tightly around her leg in an attempt to stanch the bleeding. They galloped onward, easily outdistancing the Orcs once they had cleared through.

As soon as he dared, Boromir stopped and dismounted awkwardly, Sedryn in his arms. Laying her onto the ground, he stared at her leg. Her blood had long since soaked the makeshift bandage and had dripped down her leg into her boot, seeped through the leather, and now trickled onto the ground, staining the yellowed grass an ominous dark red. He took Sedryn's pack and rummaged in it, finding fresh bandages and a vial full of liquid that would slow the bleeding. Cutting away the fabric of her breeches with a dagger, he wrapped the bandage around her leg once before liberally dousing it with the liquid. He crooned nonsense to her, soothing her, as she tensed with pain, a groan torn from her mouth. When he finished bandaging he called for the horses and transferred as much of his gear as he dared to Sedryn's horse, wanting to balance the weight on the horses since he would have to hold Sedryn as they rode.

He made his stallion kneel down when it was time for them to leave. Once he had mounted, he reached for Sedryn and, as gently as he could, maneuvered her until she rested in the saddle before him. Afraid of how cold she was and how much blood she had lost, he wrapped her cloak tightly around her and unclasped his cloak and threw it over her so her front was covered. Ensuring that she was as warm and as comfortable as she could be, he bid the horse rise and they started off at a slow canter. He felt more than heard her whimpering against him from the pain of the jarring, so he linked to her through the mind-clasp and sent her the willpower to hold up. It would drain him but he didn't care. He would last till they got to Rohan and found help from Theoden. If he rode through the night they would be there by sunset.

Boromir hadn't realized how much being married changed things. He was responsible for keeping himself alive in order to protect her, and that complicated things because he didn't do it solely out of a sense of duty—he did it from love. He did not think highly of himself, yet he knew that if either he or Faramir or even Sedryn fell, so would Gondor.

Once again he understood how much Sedryn had risked by marrying him. She had married him with the implicit knowledge that he was responsible to first Gondor, then her. And by marrying him she had subjected herself to the same treatment; she was the Lady of Gondor and her allegiance was first to Gondor then Boromir.

But the three of them –Boromir, Gondor, and Sedryn—were, in a strange way, connected. So Boromir guessed that to save one was to protect the others.


	8. Prayer

By midmorning the following day Boromir was struggling to ignore his exhaustion. Sedryn had been swimming in and out of consciousness, but was now absolutely limp and freakishly pale in his arms, and he had been strengthening her through the mind-clasp since she had been injured. They had made good time but Boromir knew he wouldn't be able to go much longer without some sort of respite, at least for a meal. He had just decided to stop and eat when far ahead he saw a group of flaxen-haired horsemen, Rohirrim, far ahead, kicking up dust as they galloped onward.

Hope flared in Boromir's heart. "Onward, Braveheart!" he said, spurring his horse onward, his lunch forgotten.

Eomer of Rohan watched as the horses cantered closer. Soon they neared enough for Eomer to see that one horse was carrying two riders; a tired-looking man holding an unconscious woman before him in the saddle. Although the woman was swathed in blankets Eomer saw that one of her legs was bare, and old blood had congealed at the edges of the cloth; cloaks, he corrected when he saw the clasps. Both of them wore the insignia of Gondor.

"Rohirrim!" the man bellowed, and despite his weariness his voice carried splendidly across the distance. Checked, Eomer stopped his horse.

Was that really Boromir of Gondor? It had been years since Boromir had come to Rohan but that voice was unmistakable. Eomer galloped forward.

Suddenly he saw that it was indeed Boromir. "My Lord!" Eomer hailed.

Boromir felt a foolish grin on his face. It was Eomer, Second Fieldmarshal to Theoden King of Rohan. They were safe.

"Fieldmarshal!" Boromir answered. "We were ambushed last night by a horde of Orcs southward across the plains, at an abandoned cabin. My wife was wounded." He said as they came nearer to each other.

Eomer nodded. "Theorwael!" he called back to his group, and the horsemen nudged their horses aside to form a path for the formidable Theorwael, the healer who traveled with Eomer's eored. To Boromir he said, "We've been on the search for them since yestereve, when we received news. How many are there?" he asked.

"Thirty?" Boromir estimated. "They may be less after we finished with them."

Again, Eomer nodded. "Is she badly hurt?"

"Moderately." Boromir answered. "But she's lost a lot of blood, and I think the wound needs stitching. I did not dare to stop throughout the night."

"Very well." Eomer said. He pointed his head toward Theorwael. "He can tend to her; he is our healer." Eomer called out the names of five more men. "Make camp here and we will meet you back here by tomorrow night. We will speak more then." Eomer said.

Boromir nodded. "May I offer my services?" he asked, although he was tired and wanted to stay with Sedryn.

Eomer took a good look at the man and shook his head. "Your strength is legendary, Lord Boromir, but you are obviously weary and your lady is hurt. There will be more opportunities later. We must go."

Boromir nodded.

"Rohirrim!" Eomer called. "Move out!"

Once the thunder of the hooves had faded Theorwael turned to Boromir and took Sedryn from him. "I'm Theorwael," he said as Boromir dismounted.

"Boromir." Boromir answered tersely, fighting waves of dizziness—he was suddenly glad that Eomer had refused his offer of help. He was more tired than he had realized.

Theorwael, his back already turned as he laid Sedryn down on the ground, spoke. "There's bread and cheese in the saddlebags. Eat."

Complying, Boromir took a hunk of bread and kneeled down beside Sedryn. Theorwael had taken one of the cloaks off her and used it as a pillow under her head. Using the other as a blanket, he spread it over her and uncovered her wounded leg, carefully straightening it. He used a dagger to cut through the blood soaked bandage and eased it off, his face darkening as he saw that the wound was still raw and seeping.

Swiftly, he rummaged in his bag for clean cloths, needle and thread, antiseptic, balm, and bandages. He seemed to debate for a moment before pulling out a bottle of clear liquid out of the bag. "Hand me the canteen from the saddlebag," he said to Boromir as he checked Sedryn's vital signs.

When Boromir had given it to him, he took a cloth and wet it with both the liquid from the bottle and water from the canteen. With surprising gentleness for a man of his size, Theorwael cleaned the wound, using another cloth to sponge away the new blood that sluggishly emanated from the cut as Sedryn jerked at the sudden renewed pain. "The longest muscle in her leg was cut, so it's likely she'll limp always. I think I've cleaned it well enough, but there is no way to tell if there are slivers of bone still in the wound. They may do nothing, or, they may work their way out. Painfully."

Once he had cleaned it to his satisfaction, he stitched it up quickly and skillfully. After he finished, he rubbed a cooling, soothing balm on the scar and bandaged it lightly. Leaning back on his knees, he covered Sedryn up with the cloak and looked up to meet Boromir's gaze.

"She'll recover from the considerable blood loss, though that will take a while." He said simply. "Let her sleep now – we'll move her to a tent—" he said and gestured behind him. For the first time Boromir realized that tents had sprung up on the plain, set up by those Eomer had ordered to stay behind. "—and keep her covered. When she wakes up she can eat, although you may have to help her."

Boromir wanted to ask when she would be able to travel, but didn't know how to ask without seeming callous.

"When the Fieldmarshal returns we shall be honored to have you journey with us back to Edoras where your lady can get proper care. She won't be able to ride for a while." Theorwael continued, using a clean cloth to wipe off her face, neck, and hands.

Boromir nodded. "Thank you," he said quietly, his tired eyes full of gratitude.

Theorwael nodded back. "It is nothing." He said.

"We are in your debt." Boromir said. "I won't forget it."

"Peace." Theorwael said, raising his hand. "There is no debt. Now, let's carry her to the tent."

Boromir knelt by her and carefully slid his arms under her back and knees and lifted her slowly. He followed Theorwael's lead to a spacious tent in the middle of the encampment and crouched to set her down on a bed of furs and pillows that Theorwael hastily set down.

After a nod, Theorwael left. Boromir stroked Sedryn's face and went into the mind-clasp. When he ascertained that she was fine, he slipped out and went outside to wash only to come face to face with Theorwael bringing a basin of water for Boromir. He handed the basin to Boromir. "For you," he said.

Boromir gratefully took the basin and cloths from him. "Thank you so much, Theorwael." he said, looking into Theorwael's face.

"Call me Theo," he answered, feeling a sudden kinship to the gracious lord of men. There were legends galore about this man, even in Rohan, and yet truly he was one of them – a soldier and a noble man.

Boromir dipped his head and smiled, embarrassed, as Theo left. Taking the basin into the tent, he washed his hands and face, closing his eyes in relief as the warm herb-infused water cleansed the grime from his face. He took a deep breath as waves of weariness washed over him. Quickly, he shrugged out of his stained overtunic and ripped, dirty breeches into clean ones from his bag. Once he had finished he sat and slipped under the furs with Sedryn, a groan escaping his lips as tired muscles painfully unclenched and relaxed.

He slept.


	9. The Ladye and the Knights

When Sedryn awoke, she found Boromir lying next to her asleep, his face nuzzled into her neck and his arm resting on her chest. She smiled. She was more comfortable than she remembered feeling in a long time, but when she tried to turn to face Boromir her leg flared with pain and a whimper escaped her lips. Boromir awoke with a start, forcing his eyes open. "Sedryn?" he said, his voice thick with sleep. "All right?"

"Yeah, sorry," she said, and her voice sounded strange even to her. "Tried to turn over and my leg cramped."

"Cramped?" Boromir said, wakefulness coming to him. "Don't you remember what happened?"

"What?" she said, grimacing as her leg began to throb. "We left Gondor yesterday, didn't we?"

"We left five days ago," Boromir said slowly.

"We did?!" she said incredulously. "I feel like…I'm-I've just come from there."

Boromir nodded. "You were dreaming of it nearly all the time you've been asleep. Day before yesterday we were ambushed after making camp in an abandoned cabin. We rode our way out but you were hurt—your leg got slashed and you lost a lot of blood." Boromir continued.

"I did?" she repeated, the pain in her leg forgotten, for the moment.

"Mm-hmm." He answered, sitting up. "Yesterday we met up with a group of Rohirrim going after the Orcs. The second Fieldmarshal of Rohan was with them, Eomer, and he detailed six men to stay with us. One of them was their healer, Theo. He cleaned your wound and took care of it."

She nodded, suddenly sleepy again. "Are you all right?"

A grin flickered over his face. "Yes, now." he said. "Are you?"

"Disoriented," she admitted, still trying to figure out how she had gotten from Gondor to Rohan in the blink of an eye. "And I'm thirsty."

Boromir nodded. "I'll get—"

"Excuse me," a deep voice cut in from the other side of the tent. "May I enter?"

"Of course, Theo," Boromir said, opening the tent flap to reveal the biggest man Sedryn had ever seen, not even excepting Boromir. She blinked.

The man bowed his head and offered her a cup of water. "Lady Sedryn." He said. "I'm Theorwael, Theo for short."

She smiled. "Of course," she said hoarsely, really very thirsty and trying to ignore the throbbing in her leg. "Boromir has told me about what you've done for us, please, accept my thanks."

She watched amusedly as he blushed. "I've done nothing, Lady, but my duty." he said as she pushed herself into a sitting position. Boromir put pillows under her and smiled as she sank into them in relief. Reaching for the cup, she averted her eyes, embarrassed, as the cup shook uncontrollably in her hands. Boromir helped her lift it up and drink.

Theo smiled. "Go back to sleep, Lady." He said. "We'll feed you later."

She smiled back and nodded. "Thanks."

"You too, if I may, Lord Boromir," Theo added. "You still look rather weary."

He dipped his head. "Yes, I am." He agreed. Theo nodded and left.

Sedryn pulled some pillows from under her head and put them back where they had been when Boromir was sleeping.

_Coming? Healer's orders, _she sent as she yawned.

"Mm-hm." He answered aloud, and slipped in beneath the blankets with her, his arms falling into their customary place around her waist. Within moments, they were again asleep.

Later that day, Sedryn awoke much refreshed to the sound of horse hooves galloping into the encampment. Boromir wasn't in the tent anymore; she guessed he had gone to see what was going on. Her leg didn't hurt as badly anymore. Experimentally, she stretched it out. It twinged a bit, but she figured she could probably sit up on her own. Working slowly so not to get dizzy, she sat up and took a deep breath. _"So far so good,"_ she thought, and wondered if she should try to get up. But she discarded the idea rather quickly – she had always chided her warrior patients for trying too hard too soon. Turning with care, she put the pillows behind her again to use as a prop and turned to her leg, carefully undoing the bandages, cleaning the wound, and rubbing it with salve before bandaging it with fresh clothes. She waited.

Just then her stomach growled, and although there was no one with her, she blushed. She would be hungry.

Just as she was beginning to get bored, Boromir slipped in to the tent. Seeing her awake and upright, he smiled at her. "Fieldmarshal Eomer returned. The remainder of the Orcs are finished; he said that they went all the way to the cabin we stayed at and counted the carcasses." Boromir didn't mention that they had been stripped of all meat by the other Orcs. "Imagine, he counted eighteen down!"

Sedryn's eyes widened in surprise at the number. "How many total were there?" she asked.

"Some score and a half." He answered. "But here, you can speak to him yourself. He's waiting outside."

She nodded and bowed her head as Eomer came in.

"Milady," he said. "I am glad to see that you are well."

She looked up at him and smiled. "Thanks to you and yours." She answered.

"Have you eaten?" Eomer asked. At her answer he said "I'll send Theo with some food for you."

"No need, Lord," Theo said from behind him, a tray in his hand. "I'm here."

Eomer chuckled. "I'll leave you to it, then," he said, backing out to the tent flaps so Theo could get in. "He told me that you would be ready to leave at earliest by tomorrow. We'll leave for Rohan at sunup; you are more than welcome to travel with us and to stay in Rohan until you have fully recovered. You can ride with your husband or with one of the other men, or we can carry you in a sling."

Boromir agreed. "It would indeed be best if we traveled to Rohan – it lies along our path and we intended to stop there to visit –"

_I didn't know that, _Sedryn interjected.

" – so we gratefully accept your hospitality." Boromir said, not skipping a beat.

Without realizing it Sedryn breathed a sigh of relief. She had known she was unable to travel yet.

Theo put the tray on her lap and said, "Once you've finished eating I would like to check your wound."

"Don't worry, Theo, I already checked it." Sedryn answered. "I'm a healer as well."

His face brightened. "Good! Do you need anything for it?"

"Thank you, no," she answered. "I used the stuff in my bag." She said, gesturing to the open bag beside her. "I cleaned and re-bandaged it; it's healing nicely."

He nodded. "Would you like to sit outside?" he asked. "It is warm enough."

"Yes, please," she answered.

Comfortably ensconced outside the tent she fell into a sleepy reverie. Although she liked these quiet, sturdy men of Rohan, she was eager to be gone, game leg notwithstanding. Hopefully tomorrow would not be too long in coming…

As Eomer had said, they left the next day at sunup. She pointedly refused a stretcher, choosing instead to be handed up to Boromir to ride in front of him. Settling into the saddle, she tried not to lean too much on Boromir and instead sit up straight. She managed to do so, although Theo had to put her foot into the stirrup for her.

It was barely two hours into their ride when Sedryn felt herself begin to tire. Cursing under her breath, she shifted in the saddle. "Lean on me," Boromir whispered into her ear.

She sent him a grateful reply and relaxed. Just then, Eomer spoke. "We'll be at Rohan by nightfall."

* * *


	10. Bridge Over Troubled Water

It was an unconscious Sedryn that Boromir handed down to Eomer when they arrived at Rohan late that night. The ride had long since exhausted her meager reserves of strength, and although Theo checked her often he had said that there was no need to stop, only the sooner she got to a bed the better.

Eowyn met them at the gate.

"Eomer!" she said, reaching up to hug him.

"All's well, Eowyn," he answered, and Boromir heard the weariness in his voice. "We have company," Eomer continued. "This is Boromir, son of the Steward of Gondor, and his wife Lady Sedryn. They were caught unawares by the Orcs and Lady Sedryn was hurt. She'll need a bed in the infirmary." He said.

She nodded. "You honor us with your visit," she said, turning her intense gaze to meet Boromir's. "You are welcome here."

Boromir dipped his head, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the cool, beautiful woman and the ache of worry he felt for Gondor. "Thank you for your kindness to me and my wife," he said, his eyes flicking back to the woman in his arms.

She nodded to him. "Follow me to the infirmary, please." She said. "There are healers there who will attend to her."

A few moments later Boromir carried Sedryn into the infirmary and laid her down onto a table that Eowyn directed him to. Two healers scurried to the side of the table as Theo told them what needed to be done.

"This is Lela and Raverin," Eowyn said, introducing the two women healers once Theo had finished. "They'll tend to your lady. Your room is next door; I'll have someone run a bath for you and send something to eat up."

"Thank you." Boromir said simply. Eowyn nodded and left; Eomer followed after giving a reassuring smile to Boromir.

"She'll be fine." Theo said once they had left. "The ladies will bathe her – that will soothe the inflammation from the saddle rubbing against her leg and they'll bind it again, with fresh herbs instead of dried. That too will help. She'll sleep the night and wake up tomorrow."

Boromir nodded. "I know of nothing else to give but my thanks."

Theo smiled. "Nothing more is needed," he said, walking out of the room.

"You needn't stay, sir," one of the healers, Raverin Boromir thought, said. "Go and rest."

"Thank you," he said. "Will you knock on my door when you are finished?"

"Certainly." She answered. Boromir nodded and walked to his bedroom.

Raverin sent for the hot water and as quickly as possible got a bath ready for Sedryn. Meanwhile, Lela undressed Sedryn and then, with Raverin's help got her in to the tub.

Gently, they washed the grime off her body with herbal soap and a washcloth. Sedryn slipped in and out of consciousness as they bathed her, the water turning murky as they scrubbed.

"Wh-who are you?" she whispered hoarsely when she woke up the first time.

"I'm Lela, and this is Raverin. You reached Rohan, and we're tending to you. We're healers," answered Lela, but Sedryn had already slipped back into sleep. Shrugging, Lela continued tending to her.

After a few moments, they lifted her out of the water and toweled her dry. Clothing her in a fresh nightgown, Raverin covered Sedryn's wound with a fresh bandage while Lela brushed and plaited Sedryn's hair.

Sedryn woke up again, for a longer period this time. They took the opportunity to give her some water and some broth to drink.

Then, they put her to bed. On their way out, they knocked at Boromir's door. "My Lord," Raverin said through the door. "She's resting."

Boromir, who had fallen asleep in the bathtub, blinked awake. "Thanks," he said, then realized that his voice probably didn't carry through the door. "Thanks!" he called again, louder, as he hauled himself out of the tub, shivering as the cool night air met his bare skin. Reaching for the towel, he dried himself off and dressed himself in the spare tunic and trousers he had in his bag. Still a bit cold, he tied himself into the thick robe he found lying on his bed.

Then, he went to Sedryn.

She was just falling back into sleep when Boromir came in. Her face brightened when she saw him. "There you are," she said, her voice a little stronger for the broth and water the healers had fed her.

"All right?" he asked, smiling as he saw her bundled luxuriantly under a thick blanket.

"Splendid." She said. "Sleepy!" she added as a yawn nearly split her jaws into two.

He smiled. "Go to bed." He said, pulling up a chair to her side.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I'll stay here." he answered.

_Didn't they give you a room? _She asked.

_Yes. _He answered.

_And isn't there a bed in it? _She continued.

_Yes._

_Well then! Go to bed yourself! I'll be fine for tonight. _She said.

"Sure?"

"Mm-hmm. Now go to sleep!" she said, smiling at him through ever heavier eyelids. He kissed her on the forehead before he went back to his room to sleep.

He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Late next morning Sedryn woke up to find Boromir smiling at her. "Good morning." He said.

She smiled. "Good morning. I'm hungry."

Boromir laughed heartily. "Breakfast was a few hours ago, but I daresay I can scrounge a second breakfast up for you."

"Thank you."

As Boromir went to go find her food, Lela and Raverin came into the room and checked on her.

"Likely you don't remember us," said Raverin, "but we're the ones who tended to you when you came in last night. I'm Raverin and she's Lela."

"Many thanks to you, ladies." Sedryn said. "We are indebted to you."

Lela chuckled. "Eat." She said. "That's payment enough, for a healer."

Sedryn smiled. "Aye. I'm a healer too; I know what you mean. But I won't forget."

And with that last sentence she again remembered Gondor waiting.

A quarter of an hour later she was digging voraciously into the eggs Boromir and Lela had brought her. When she was replete, Lela took the tray back to the kitchen.

Raverin, hands perched on her hips, said, "Now, are you ready to walk?"

"Most definitely," Sedryn answered without hesitation, pulling away the blanket. Shifting her legs over the edge, she carefully stood up, Boromir and Raverin at each side ready to steady her.

Shakily, she put pressure on her legs and stood up. Boromir took her arm and helped her to the chair.

At this point, someone knocked on the door. It was Eomer.

"Good morning." He said, nodding at them. Raverin and Lela stole away when he entered.

"Good morning." Boromir said, Sedryn echoing him.

"I am glad to see you in better health, lady." He told Sedryn. "I trust Raverin and Lela took good care of you?"

"Splendid." Sedryn answered, feeling somewhat bashful in the presence of the Fieldmarshal of Rohan.

He nodded curtly. Suddenly Sedryn sensed that Eomer had something else to say.

_Boromir, _she sent. _Something's troubling him._

_I can tell. _Boromir answered. "Is there something amiss, sir?" Boromir continued.

Eomer bit his lip and moved into the room, closing the door behind him. "Things are…uncertain, with my uncle." Eomer said. "He is…not what he was."

Boromir left Sedryn's side and walked closer to Eomer. "What is it?" he asked quietly, suddenly realizing that Eomer was younger than he was.

"It's his counselor, Grima." Eomer whispered. "Do not trust him! 'Ware what you say of Gondor and your business in his presence."

Boromir's eyes grew dark. "Is he a traitor?"

"Every single man but for my uncle thinks so and despises him. Yet my uncle refuses to hear any grievances against him."

"I see," Boromir said, nodding. "We'll take care. Thank you."

Eomer inclined his head. "He wormed his way to my quarters this morning and tried to ask me questions. I told him your names, and judging from the way his eyes glittered he knows who you are. Other than how we met up, I told him nothing else."

"Thank you." Boromir took a deep breath. "Is there anything we can do?" he asked.

Eomer's eyes flashed. "No. Only take care."

"Understood." Boromir said.

With that, Eomer turned and walked out of the room.

_Poor lad, _Boromir said.

_Mm-hm. _Sedryn agreed. _Isn't there some thing we can do?_

_Maybe. _Boromir said. _Maybe._

"When are we to have our audience?" Sedryn asked aloud.

"The time he receives people is after the noon meal." Boromir answered.

"I'd best get dressed then," she said, reaching for a dress that hung on a peg next to her chair. Moving slowly, she stood, putting her pressure on her left leg to keep from toppling over. Boromir walked to her and unbuttoned her nightgown, helping her step out of it. Still unused to being nearly completely unclothed in front of him, a hint of a blush stained Sedryn's cheeks as she used Boromir to steady herself.

From his kneeling position he gave her a dark, tender look. Sedryn felt her breath steal away as he drew the dress up her legs and body, his hands brushing her body with an agonizing sensuousness that sent shivers running down her body as he rose to a standing position. Although he had the laces of the dress in his hands Sedryn felt them draw up then loosen as Boromir kissed her on the back of her neck, his arms stealing around her waist for a brief moment. Just as she relaxed into his hold he pulled away and clumsily laced up the dress.

Still wanting his arms around her, she took a deep breath. "Thanks," she said shakily.

"Mm-hm," he breathed.

They pulled apart from each other guiltily when someone knocked at the door. It was Raverin, pulling a massive trolley full of food behind her. "Lunch time," she said.

"Oh my." Sedryn replied, her eyes going wide at the sight of so much food. "I'm not that hungry," she added, her voice fading away at Raverin's indignant look.

"Of course you are." Raverin said.

Boromir chuckled as he walked forward to help her drag in the heavy trolley. "Look, Sedryn, there are hot rolls and butter, fresh vegetables, potatoes, everything you like."

"But Boromir, I just ate!" she said, her voice rising on the last note.

He shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said, luxuriantly buttering a roll. Raverin turned away to hide a smile. There was no way Sedryn could resist eating, the way Boromir was enjoying his roll.

Sedryn bit her lip, but in spite of herself she giggled. Giving in, she said, "Oh, fine, I'll have a roll!"

He laughed. "'Sgood!" he said, his voice muffled by the bread.

"Evidently!" she said, pulling a piece apart to butter it.

Moments later a look of bliss appeared on her face. "This _is_ good!"

Raverin laughed. "Enjoy," she said. "Lord Theoden will be accepting visitors soon; I'd suggest you eat quickly and get there before he gets tired."


	11. Roots and Beginnings

"I'll walk," Sedryn said. "Just give me your arm."

Boromir held his arm out. Sedryn took it with a smile and together they set off for the Throne Room. When they left the infirmary Sedryn filled her lungs with fresh air.

Eomer, seeing them, smiled and walked to them. "Are you going to the Throne Room?" he asked.

"Yes, we are," Boromir answered. "But we don't know where it is – can you show us?"

"Certainly," Eomer answered. "This way," he said, going ahead.

Soon they arrived at the great halls of Meduseld. "I'll present you," said Eomer when they were before the doors.

"Thank you." Sedryn said. A few moments later, the massive doors opened, a sentinel standing on each side of the door. Utter silence reigned as Boromir and Sedryn walked through the doors and up the rug leading to Theoden—the numerous people in the room were absolutely still. Both Boromir and Sedryn suppressed a shudder of revulsion upon seeing the pasty-looking man sitting next to a white-haired, frail-looking Theoden. Closer and closer they walked but Sedryn found she could not tear her eyes from Theoden. _He looks ill, _she sent to Boromir. She sensed his agreement.

_Look at Grima's chair, _he sent back to her. Indeed, his chair was nearly as intricately carved as Theoden's. _He presumes much. _

When they approached the steps to the throne they knelt, though it took Sedryn a bit of maneuvering to actually kneel instead of fall.

"Arise." Theoden said, drawing himself upright. "You are welcome in Rohan."

"Thank you for your kindness to us." Boromir said.

"Your faces are known to us; we wouldn't dream of turning you away." Theoden said, then began to cough, choking. Both Sedryn and Eowyn sprang to help him but Grima waved them away, digging out a bag of lozenges to suck on and handing one to Theoden.

Although she was repulsed by Grima's cold fingers Sedryn did not back away. "My Lord, are you ill?" she asked.

"Bah. 'Tis merely the illness of old age," he said, waving her away.

She tilted her head. "My Lord, I am a healer; please, perhaps I can help you," she pleaded.

Grima stood up. "Enough. Can you not see that he would rather be left alone?"

Sedryn's eyes flashed, angry that anyone would try to interfere with her helping. "My Lord?" she said.

"Thank you, Lady Sedryn," Theoden answered. "Your kind heart does you justice, but I think that there is nothing you can do for me."

Bowing her head, she limped back to Boromir's side.

"Now then," Theoden said. "Is there anything you lack?"

"No, Lord." Boromir answered. "We only ask your blessing when we leave."

Theoden smiled. "What good would the blessing of Rohan do for the Courage and the Healing of Gondor?" he asked.

Remembering Denethor's dream, both Boromir and Sedryn were startled to hear those names drop from Theoden's lips, but they recovered quickly. "The blessing of one as venerable as you are, Theoden King, would be nothing less than a benefit to any undertaking." Boromir answered.

Theoden was pleased with Boromir's answer. "You are very gracious, Lord Boromir," he said. "It is a pity that trade and travel between our lands has fallen so low."

Boromir's brow creased. "What do you mean?" he asked, alarmed.

Theoden frowned. "Do you not know?" he asked. "Trading and bartering has gone down to the point that both your traders and mine make hardly any profit at all. I do not know if it is the signs of the times we live in, yet it alarms me."

After a pause, Boromir answered, choosing his words carefully. "I have been receiving weekly reports that trade was flourishing," he said.

Sedryn did not miss how Grima followed the exchange between the two men, his eyes flickering back and forth between them as they spoke.

"Indeed?" Theoden said, his eyebrows raised in astonishment.

At an impasse, neither man knew what to say next.

"What brings you to Rohan?" Grima asked, breaking the silence.

"Rohan is not our ultimate destination." Boromir answered. "My father the Steward has sent us on a task that requires us to travel to Rivendell," he said.

"To do what?" demanded Grima.

"With all due respect, sir," Boromir answered. "I am not at liberty to divulge that."

"Did you receive a message from them?" Theoden asked. "A Lord Elrond?"

"Yes," Boromir said, surprised.

"So did we." Theoden said. "Shall we take counsel about it privately?" he asked.

"That would be wise, lord." Boromir answered.

"Then tell everyone to leave us, please, Grima." Theoden told his counselor. "Bring Theodred and Eomer here; they should hear this. Eowyn, this may concern you as well," he said to the woman standing at the foot of the steps, on the other side from Grima.

Grima, arising from his chair, bowed to Theoden. "Theoden-King has urgent business that requires privacy," he said loudly. "Please, leave us."

As soon as the throne room had emptied, he again bowed to Theoden. "Shall I send for refreshments for you and your guests whilst I search for milords Theodred and Eomer?" he asked.

"That would be well." Theoden answered. "Light refreshment, if you please, Grima. Lunch was not so long ago."

So a quarter of an hour later a maid brought in cups of thick, milky tea and some salted nuts and fresh apples to where Theoden, Boromir and Sedryn, and Eowyn were waiting.

After taking their choice of refreshment, they separated; Boromir finding himself with Theoden, Sedryn with Eowyn.

"Hello," Sedryn offered tentatively to Eowyn.

"Hello," Eowyn answered, smiling just as tentatively as she cradled her teacup in her hands.

Encouraged by the smile, Sedryn carried the conversation. "I think I remember you from last night, though I may be mistaken," she said.

"No, I was there," Eowyn demurred. "I am glad to see you so much improved."

Sedryn blushed, but was spared the embarrassment of replying by the advent of Eomer and another, more slender man Sedryn assumed to be Theodred. Suddenly Grima appeared behind them, and judging from his breathless state Sedryn guessed that Eomer and Theodred had not slowed down for him as he explained why they were being summoned to the throne room.

"Sorry, Father." Theodred said. Sedryn was captured by his voice – it was different from the others she had heard in Rohan. It was neither the husky baritone of Eomer nor the thin voice of Theoden nor even the superior, condescending tones of Grima, although that last one didn't really surprise her.

"Eomer and I were out in the fields, drilling some troops." Theodred said.

Sedryn smiled when she saw Theoden's face brighten.

_There are rumors of this man's voice, _Boromir sent to her, _that say that he can, just by virtue of speaking, make a horde of Orcs surrender. _

_I believe it, _she answered. _What an interesting voice he has! _

_I think I know him,_ Boromir sent. _We fought together._

"Meet our guests," Theoden said. "This is Lord Boromir of Gondor, the heir to the Stewardship, and his wife Lady Sedryn. This is my son Theodred; Eomer you of course know."

"It's a pleasure to see you again!" Theodred said, stepping forward and shaking Boromir's hand.

"Likewise, but you never told me you were Theodred Prince of Rohan!" Boromir answered, a grin on his face.

Theodred laughed. "It is my little idiosyncrasy – when I am with my men I am only Theodred, nothing more." He said.

"A wise measure," Boromir approved. "Well," he continued. "It is my very great pleasure to introduce you to my wife, Sedryn."

At Boromir's side, Sedryn smiled at Theodred.

Theodred smiled. "Any lovelier and a man would be forever transfixed. Welcome to you, Lady Sedryn! It takes a special woman to deal with him." He said, pointing with his thumb at Boromir.

She laughed. "Believe me, the sentiment is reciprocal – it takes a special man to deal with me!"

"You know each other?" asked Theoden. "How?"

"It was close to the border between Gondor and Rohan," Theodred answered. "We were checking on the outlying villages and ran into one of the pesky Dunlending patrols heading for Ithilien. We ran into Boromir, his brother Faramir, and a crew of men following them. If it wasn't for them I don't think we would have survived – the patrol of Dunlendings was far greater than we had been told, and we had some hard fighting to do. But in the end we won out and went our ways, having only told each other our names and where we were from. I knew he was Denethor's son, but I never told him I was your son."

"Well," said Grima, having finally regained his breath. "Such chance meeting proved fortuitous to you both."

"I do not think it was chance," Theodred demurred thoughtfully, remembering the power he had felt when he and Boromir led their army against the Dunlendings. He knew that if his plan was sound Boromir would back it with all his formidable courage.

_Definitely not chance!_ Boromir sent to Sedryn. _It was like having Faramir next to me, he told her. Theodred is_—he stopped. _Theodred is cunning, very cunning_, he said.

_Oh. _Sedryn sent back. _So that's another part of the puzzle. We've got Courage, Healing, Wisdom, and Cunning – we have Strength, Honor, and Loyalty left to find._

"_Well." Theoden said. "That bodes well for the business at hand. Theodred, Eomer, the reason I asked you here is because Boromir and Sedryn are on their way to Rivendell after receiving the same messenger we did from Elrond."_

"_Ah." Suddenly the jocularity slipped from Theodred's face to be replaced by a stern mask. "It is a very long way," he said. _

"_It is," Boromir agreed. "And not all those who have searched for it have found it. Indeed, we are loath to travel such a road but the Steward has commanded it." _

"_How do you intend to find it?" Grima asked._

_His dark eyes resting on Grima, Boromir thought about his next words. Finally he spoke: "We have no sure knowledge as to where the Elves are, yet we will follow the old road as far as we can before branching off northwards in the direction of a region called the Shire. Rivendell is rumored to be on that road."_

_Theoden nodded. "Eomer, what say you?" he asked._

"_I think that if they are going, we should go too." Eomer said._

"_I agree," Theodred concurred. _

"_Eowyn?" Theoden asked._

_After a pause, she nodded. "Yes," she said. "If the Elves have sent messengers to both Rohan and Gondor they may have sent them elsewhere. This may concern something bigger than we realize." _

"_Then we are agreed?" said Theoden. "Grima?"_

"_We must do whatever your Lordship deems best," he answered obsequiously. _

_Theoden nodded. _

"_If I may, Lord," Boromir interjected into the ensuing silence. "It would be best to travel together. That is if you will to send someone." He said._

"_Indeed it would." Theoden concurred. "I must take thought as to whom." _

"_Shall we leave you, then, Father, while you think it over?" Theodred said. "We can meet again tomorrow. Eomer and I can show Boromir and Sedryn Rohan, and Eowyn needs some time in the sunlight."_

"_Certainly," Theoden said. "I forget you are young. Do not hurry back."_

"_That would be fine, Father, thank you. I'll check in once we get back."_

"_Then all is well." Theoden said._


	12. White Heat

Half an hour later the five of them rode out onto the plains, Theodred deeming that the best place to talk without being overheard. They spoke as they rode.

"I asked you out here," Theodred began, "because these are dangerous times we live in. Both Eomer and Theorwael have given me a good report of you both, and as I trust them I accept their judgment—to say nothing of having made my own in times past."

Both Theodred and Boromir shared a grin.

"Nevertheless," Theodred continued. "I would there was no need to pry into one another's business. Eomer has warned you of Wormtongue—"

Boromir raised an eyebrow. "Wormtongue?" he asked.

"It fits." Eowyn said, her eyes hard as she stared out over the plains.

"He is a coward," Eomer added, "and twists the truth for his own purpose. Ever he seeks more information, and we very much fear that he passes it on to those who are not our allies."

"So I gathered." Boromir said. "Can you not banish him?"

Theodred shook his head. "For some reason my father is strangely attached to the Snake, as Eowyn calls him. Grima does not leave my father for the entire day, not until he is conveyed into his bed at night. Even then he has a bedroom right next to his."

"What strange hold is this?" Boromir said, stopping his horse. "Forgive me for taking liberties, but there is an evil amidst you. Remove it! For you do not know what may go ill."

Theodred's eyes were hard and proud as he guided his horse to face Boromir's. "Be careful where you stand, son of Gondor." He warned. "There are things you do not know which temper our actions toward Grima."

"May I hazard a guess?" Sedryn broke in. "Does it have aught to do with Theoden's illness?"

Theodred looked at her. "With all due respect, lady, how can you know?"

"I'm a healer," she said flatly.

"Oh," said Theodred abashedly, suddenly remembering Theorwael telling him the exact same thing that very day. "Forgive me," he added, his mind scampering after rabbits. "I meant no offense."

She shrugged. "It is wise to be wary, but after all you've done we'd like to help, not hinder. I can examine him, if you like; at the very least I might be able to ease his pain."

"That might be wise," Eowyn said, looking at Theodred and Eomer as they started their horses going again.

"Then it shall be done, if you think it's best." Theodred said.

Eowyn nodded. "The leechcraft of Gondor is still widely considered the best," she said. "Perhaps Lady Sedryn can effect some return to his normal self."

Theodred nodded. "But we must secure a way for you to examine him without Grima's knowledge."

"I could say that for royalty I will only accept one of his blood kin to be with me when I examine him." Sedryn offered.

"That might work," Eowyn agreed.

"Especially if we back her up," said Theodred. Eomer nodded.

"She's royalty too," Boromir added. "She's my wife."

"So once again, we are agreed." Theodred said. "This should be the start of an interesting renewed alliance."

"Indeed," Boromir said. "Especially since one of you will be traveling with us."

"Perhaps," Theodred amended. "He may choose someone else."

"Not for something of this importance," Eomer demurred.

"Orcs!" Eowyn shouted suddenly, almost falling from her horse as she pointed out the dark shapes in the distance.

……

Theodred gave an angry shout, worry blossoming in his mind as he followed Eowyn's direction. The strangers were behind them, as though they were following them, from Edoras. They held no flag of truce. Quickly, Theodred made his decision. "We charge through!" he said, unsheathing his sword and brandishing it in the air.

"They come from Edoras," Eomer pointed out quietly. Theodred shared a worried glance with his cousin.

"I noticed," he said. "Don't worry about killing them all, just work through. If you can, try to capture one alive."

They began galloping backwards toward the men, now clearly visible as enemies snarling their challenge to the world. Returning the war cry, the five sped onward.

The battle met with a clash of swords and sparks. Time seemed to pass unnaturally quickly, and it seemed only moments before Eomer dismounted his horse, wiping blood from his split lip with the back of his hand. He took a roll call. "Theodred?"

"Here." Theodred answered.

"Eowyn?"

"I'm here," she answered breathlessly.

"Sedryn?"

"All right."

"Boromir?"

"I'm fine," he said. "I have a prize, too," he said, holding an unconscious, heavily painted Westron by the collar.

"Oh," said Theodred, walking over to him.

"He's rather…out." Sedryn said, checking him over. "It probably will be an hour or two before he wakens."

Theodred tossed Boromir a length of rope. "Tie him up," he said, helping keep the man upright as Boromir wrapped the rope around him.

"Is anyone hurt?" Sedryn asked, wetting a clean cloth with water from her canteen. "Here, Fieldmarshal," she said, handing it to Eomer. "Wipe your chin and your lip. I have some balm you can put on it to make it heal faster."

"Thanks," he said, but Sedryn had already gone to Eowyn and began cleaning a cut on her arm. Theodred and Boromir were untouched, so then she bent down and checked a small cut by her ankle.

"All clear?" Theodred asked.

"Fine." Sedryn answered, although her leg had begun to throb painfully.

"Then let's rest a bit." Theodred said. "I find myself unnerved by this attack."

"My Lord, are you ill?" Sedryn said, limping to Theodred.

He shook his head. "I am uninjured," he said, trying to shake the Westron awake. "Only worried."

"They came from Rohan." Boromir spoke.

Theodred nodded his head in agreement. "Yes."

"We'll get something from him," Eomer said, inclining his head towards the still unconscious man.

"Let's hope," Theodred said.

"It'll be all right. Better all of us than you alone," Boromir said, looking at the Eorlingas.

"Thank you for that," Theodred said, feeling a kinship to the man spring up.

Eowyn reached into a saddlebag and started pulling out some food.

"Good idea," Sedryn said, grabbing a loaf of bread and some cheese. Slicing them, she set them out next to the apples and pears Eowyn had brought out.

"Eat," Eowyn urged, smiling. "It's as good a way as any to pass the time."

Smiling in return, everyone else dug in. Sedryn selected an apple from the makeshift picnic and sat down next to Boromir, busily engaged in trying to keep the juice from his pear from running down his chin. He accepted the napkin she offered gratefully.

"This," Sedryn said emphatically, crunching into the deep pink flesh of her apple, "is the best apple I've ever had," she said.

Eomer beamed. "The apple trees gave an unexpectedly good crop this year."

Theodred laughed. "Eomer's inordinately proud of his apples – he planted them with my father at least, oh, twenty years ago? And since then he's taken care of them as much as he can."

"'spaid off," she said. "I love these."

There wasn't much conversation over the rest of the impromptu meal. They were wrapping up the rest of the bread when the Westron began to stir.

He had hardly opened his eyes before they had surrounded him. He sat up but said nothing.

"What is your name?" asked Theodred, stalking back and forth in front of him.

"You'll get no answer from me!" the man snarled.

"Answer him!" Eomer roared, startling everyone present.

"Kill me!" he taunted. "I'll never tell."

"Very well," Theodred shrugged. "We'll just leave you here and go home then," he said. "Let's pack up," he told the others.

Catching on to his bluff, the others did as he said, repacking their saddlebags and calling to their horses. They had actually begun to canter down the road before the Westron finally called out.

"Wait, wait," he shouted. "I'll die of boredom if you leave me here."

Casually, Theodred turned around. "Boredom?" he said, smirking. "Not starvation, or cold, or Orcs?"

The man growled at him. "I have better things to do."

"Better things to do than starve? Yes I daresay you do. We also have better things to do than interrogate uncooperative Westron leaders – so out with it!" The pleasant tone was totally gone from Theodred's voice. "What is your name?" he ordered. "Who sent you? Why came you from the direction of Rohan?" The threat implicit in Theodred's words finally began to dawn upon the Westron and he looked scared. He was close to breaking.

"I am Haralgick," he said.

With a glance Theodred indicated to Eomer to take over.

"Well, Haralgick," Eomer said. "Who sent you?"

"No one sent us," he said. "We came of our own accord."

Eomer heaved a sigh. "Then why did you come from the direction of Rohan?"

"We didn't; we came from the East—"

"Originally, yes, we know that." Theodred said pointedly.

"No, we turned in this direction after crossing Rohan," the man said defiantly.

"Why?" Eomer asked. "There's no reason for you to just take a jaunt into Rohan."

The man fell silent. "If I tell you, will you promise not to kill me?"

Theodred looked around at everyone. "Any objections?"

"No," they said one at a time.

"We promise not to kill you, if you tell us everything," Theodred said.

"Very well," Haralgick said. "We worked for Grima. We stayed in hidden tunnels under Meduseld. Once you lot set out he came down to us and told us to go after you. He said," continued Haralgick sullenly, "that you should be easy enough to overtake with twenty men."

Theodred and Eomer were furiously angry. "Are there any more of you in Meduseld?" Theodred demanded.

"A token force," Haralgick said. "Eight men as a protection for Grima."

"We should take him back with us!" Eomer blazed. "If this won't convince Theoden nothing will."

"Yes," Theodred said. He turned to Boromir and Sedryn. "My apologies, Lord Boromir and Lady Sedryn, for this despicable circumstance. I had hoped we might be able to speak more and to further our friendships, but once again something's come up," he said, bitterness coloring his voice.

Boromir shook his head. "Please, no apology is necessary," he said. "I understand very well."

Theodred nodded curtly. "Thanks," he said as he helped Eomer tie the Westron up to a rope behind his horse. "Let's go," he said, mounting and taking the lead in hand. They set off at a slow pace, easily followed by the man on foot. He was scowling sullenly, realizing that though they had promised not to kill him, they could just as easily have someone else kill him_._

_

* * *

Just a note - I am now at college, so it'll take me a long time to finish the story. Is there still interest in it?_


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